


All That Glitters

by ghost_like



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst, Fortune Telling, Ghosts, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mediums, Mild Horror, Polyamory, Psychological, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Victorian Gothic AU, discussions of death and mortality, seances, so if you're not comfortable with that you should probably not read this, unhealthy behavior and relationships (please do not emulate)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 17:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 258,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20624963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghost_like/pseuds/ghost_like
Summary: Changkyun always considered himself a skeptic, until an encounter with a medium awakens in him something he cannot explain - or ignore.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> all i wanted was to write spooky chaekkung... and then it got out of hand. hi, i've been working on this since june.
> 
> biggest thank you and all my love to christine ([moon__goddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon__goddess)), who is my beta for this fic and has the patience of a saint to deal with my overthinking ass 😔👊 i'd probably have dropped this au if not for her
> 
> enjoy!♡

◦

The old mansion sat at the top of the hill overlooking the vast moorlands around it, grand and imposing, the sole sovereign of that scenery since times long forgotten. It stood empty for quite some time, its winding hallways bereft of traffic, the long staircase quiet of any creaks, the rooms naked of any furniture, their only inhabitants the spiders that sought out those dark corners to build their webs, and the silence.

Outside, the flowers had wilted in the gardens and the vines had climbed up the walls, covered the windows, tightened around the statues like ropes. The wide main door hung open on its hinges like a feeble mouth begging to be fed one last time, eager to bite down on anything that dares cross its threshold, hungry and desperate. The windows, ever-watchful eyes, kept their morose gaze over the endless expanse of land, bearing witness to the rain and the snow and the sunshine and the moonlight and the fog, the fog that rolled in every night and made the building look as if it could float above the mists, dreamlike - impossible to enter, impossible to escape.

Desolation, isolation.

Endless possibility. 

◦ ◦ ◦

Changkyun looked over at the passersby with boredom in his eyes; there wasn’t much to do in that part of town, where only the poor resided. No, if he wanted action, he would only find it in the nicer, richer part of the city, where he could actually make some profit. Where he was, in a neighborhood where one would be lucky to find two coppers to knock together, all he would be doing was wasting his time. Slim pickings.

Besides, it didn’t feel right to steal from those who had nothing. No, much better to take from those who had too much and rubbed it in their faces all the time, with their fancy restaurants and clothes and frivolous nights at the opera.

Things were getting harder these days - more patrols on the streets as crime became more widespread, a direct consequence of the rise of poverty. Too many people had too little, and the few who had too much weren’t keen on sharing. Charity was a lovely concept, one the rich and powerful and righteous loved to sing and preach about during Sunday mass, one which was forgotten as soon as they found themselves bereft of someone to impress with their good deeds.

If he was being completely honest, though, Changkyun, too, would not want to share his wealth, were he in that position.

Alas, he was not - so he would continue to take their wealth from them without their consent.

For that, he would need to find somebody to take it from first. And that’s what he was doing. Or, well, that and waiting for Jooheon to come back from wherever he was. Something about a job.

Changkyun chose that place to loiter about for a reason - it was just outside the grocery and there was a reasonable amount of people there at that hour, most of them servants that worked for the richer folk. And they liked to talk. A _ lot_.

So Changkyun stood there, waiting for his friend, listening. Any information could be useful, any news of people going out of town on a business trip or a family planning an outing, anything that indicated an empty house suitable for his purposes. It had to be houses at that moment - pickpocketing would not be that advantageous to him until a new season of plays began at the theater in a few weeks. The main markets were too heavily patrolled those days, so finding a place with a good crowd where he was less likely to be caught was that much harder.

He heard nothing very relevant at first. News of the relatives of Ms. McSomething coming to town, how the Head Cook of Mr. Whomstever had acquired a brand new sorbetiére. Changkyun _ wished _ he had relatives to visit him, _ wished _ he had the coin to spend on something as unnecessary as a sorbetiére, but that was not the case. Useless. All useless.

Changkyun was starting to lose hope, starting to consider trying again some other time despite how pressed they were for money, until he picked up on a conversation that had his entire being zeroing in.

“—just come back from a world tour!”

‘World tour’ was not something Changkyun heard every day - whomever just returned from a _ world tour _ had to be swimming in money. A celebrity? He angled his head at the two young women who were talking, turning his ear towards them to hear better - it was a little hard with how his heartbeat had spiked, but he was trying his best to ignore the pounding in his eardrums.

“Rubbish,” the second woman said with a scoff, her disdain obvious, “are you trying to tell me that this séance nonsense gets you a world tour?”

Séance? Now Changkyun was most definitely intrigued.

“I have seen it!” the first woman replied, hitting her friend’s arm lightly with the back of her fingers. “It’s real. When they arrived a few weeks ago, they gathered all of us servants and the medium did a reading on us, and _ everything _ he said was right!”

“That’s not possible,” the second woman said, still sounding unconvinced. They began moving from where they had stopped to take a look at a fruit stall, so Changkyun discreetly followed behind them at a safe distance. “It’s all a hoax, I’m telling you.”

“It’s true, it’s all true! He spoke with the voice of our first maid's late mother!” the first woman keep on insisting. “You should come over to the soirée tomorrow night and see.”

Changkyun had to bite down a grin. A soirée wasn’t an empty house, it was the absolute opposite of it, but it was still an opportunity and a very good one.

“As if I would go all the way up to that big scary house in the middle of nowhere to see some phony talk to ghosts.”

“He’s not a phony!”

The conversation quickly devolved into bickering and Changkyun decided he’d heard enough. A party the next night, at a house in the middle of nowhere. He could take that information and make it work, somehow - Jooheon probably knew more, being the outgoing, friendly person he was. 

He stopped following the two women, luckily before anyone thought he had ill intentions towards them, and returned to where he’d been posted before, by the grocer, so Jooheon could easily spot him once he was back. On his way there he picked up on a second, less interesting conversation regarding one upper-middle-class family going away to the shore on vacation - if the secluded house didn’t pan out, at least he had a backup plan.

He had a good feeling, though - a _ very _ good feeling. He didn’t need a backup plan, that ‘soirée’ would be it. It was rare for him to feel like that, so certain about something of which he couldn’t possibly know the outcome, but he knew in his gut, in his heart, in his very soul that ‘the scary house in the middle of nowhere’ was where he was supposed to go. He’d learned long ago not to ignore a hunch so strong as that one, and that was a _ hunch _ if he ever had any.

Luck seemed to be on his side, for when he arrived back at his previous spot, Jooheon was already there, looking around in search of him. Changkyun jogged the last few steps towards him, Jooheon breaking into a wide dimpled smile once he saw him approach.

“Kyun! Guess what!” Jooheon said, meeting Changkyun halfway. Changkyun’s eyes fell on the bag of candied popcorn in Jooheon’s hands, and he gave him a look that said _ ‘we should be saving money and you’re wasting it on sweets’ _, which Jooheon vehemently ignored. “I got the job! I start tomorrow.”

“That’s great news!” Changkyun replied, deciding to forego the nagging about spending money on trifles - for the moment. “What is the job?”

“It’s nothing much, just cleaning up some cages at the circus that just got into town,” Jooheon said, becoming bashful at the humbleness of his new work, but Changkyun didn’t comment on it. “It won’t make us rich, but it’s steady pay.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, and we do our share of begging,” Changkyun replied, and together they began walking down the street. “I have a question.”

“What is it?” 

Changkyun didn’t waste time preambling. “Have you heard anything about a medium?”

Jooheon gave him a cautious sideways look. “We are _ not _ going to see a medium.”

Changkyun huffed and rolled his eyes. Why would he ever want to see a medium for? “That’s not why I’m asking.”

“It better not be, ‘cause you’ll be going all on your own if you are,” Jooheon said, pointing his index finger at Changkyun in warning.

Changkyun only gave him an unimpressed look. Neither of them had any reason to go see a medium - all the dead people they could try to communicate with were not exactly people they ever wanted to speak to again. Or, well, maybe Jooheon’s grandmother, but she would be the only one. Nothing was left unsaid, though, no business was left unfinished, so Jooheon was just being daft.

Regardless, Changkyun was pressed for answers just as much as they were pressed for money, lest they ended up living on the streets by the end of the week, so he brushed over Jooheon’s concerns and continued on with his prodding. “I’m assuming that means you’ve heard something.”

Jooheon inhaled sharply, nostrils expanding. He looked as if he was having a heated internal debate, so Changkyun had the courtesy of allowing him a moment to finish butting heads with himself.

“Yes,” Jooheon finally said, not looking at all happy about it, “I might know a thing or two.”

“Tell me.”

“You’ll have to be more specific, though,” Jooheon said as they turned a corner. He shoved a handful of candied popcorn into his mouth, so when he next spoke his voice was muffled and there were bits of popcorn flying everywhere. “Lots of mediums around.”

Changkyun was aware - spiritualism was, for some ungodly reason, all the rage these past few years. “I’m assuming not many of them have been on a world tour.”

Jooheon stopped walking abruptly and whirled around to face Changkyun, who, caught unawares, all but crashed onto him. Jooheon didn’t even flinch. “Of all the mediums around, you _ have _ to ask about the scariest one, don’t you?”

“Scariest? Why?” Changkyun questioned, this time genuinely baffled. Mediums weren’t scary - charlatans, all of them, from what Changkyun could tell. No such things as ghosts.

“It’s not that much about the medium - the whole situation is spooky,” Jooheon explained with a grimace. “Take whatever I tell you with a grain of salt, it’s all hearsay. What I’ve heard is that there was a fire about a year ago at that neighborhood by the river, you know, with the nice houses? Killed a whole family and only one of them survived.”

Changkyun groaned, annoyed. “What does that have to do with—”

“I’m getting there!” Jooheon snapped. “The survivor was this guy, Guhn, and after that he took off, left town, nobody knows where he went. This party you mentioned, it’s this Mr. Guhn’s return party.”

Interesting, if not too helpful yet. “Is that so?”

“Weird, right?” Jooheon’s voice dropped to a more secretive one and they continued walking. “I don’t know if any of it is true, but I keep hearing about how he befriended this other man who can really speak to the dead and they made a _ fortune _ doing séances and private readings.” _ Finally_, the part Changkyun wanted to hear about. “They bought that old mansion in the moor, renovated it and everything.”

Alright, the moor. Changkyun knew the place Jooheon spoke of, although he’d never been there in person. He heard the stories though, of how lovely it was, how grand it was, how magnificent and fit for nobility; he’d also heard it was haunted, cursed, miserable, terrifying.

He wasn’t concerned about the mansion itself, however - the moor was much more dangerous, with its nightly mists that rolled in thick and blinding, making it all too easy for accidents to happen. He would have to go early in the evening, just as the sun set, if he didn’t want to get caught in it.

He would also have to borrow a horse from Mr. Brian, but he was sure he could convince him to lend him one of his animals - he would settle for the slowest, oldest one, even. He wasn’t worried.

For the moment, though, Changkyun’s mind got stuck in another point of Jooheon’s tale. “When you say ‘befriended’, do you mean as in, they are friends, or are they… ‘_friends_’?”

Jooheon snorted at the question, his dimples making an appearance alongside his amusement. “I have no idea, but people talk, as they always do.” Jooheon said, and after thinking for a second, added, “Must be a very special friendship to go as far as doing a world tour together, though.”

That was absolutely right - two men, unmarried, traveling the world together and settling down on a grand old mansion all by themselves. A very special friendship indeed.

_ Lucky them_, Changkyun thought to himself. Being rich and powerful would certainly help to keep such a scandalous lifestyle from outsiders’ eyes, having sturdy stone walls and stacks of money to hide behind. Changkyun didn’t have the same perks, nothing to shield him from being jailed for gross indecency were he ever caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Even Changkyun’s friendship with Jooheon had been scrutinized in the past, especially by their landlady, but nothing had come from it nor would it ever - no proof, no crime. There would be no proof, because Jooheon was his friend and nothing more.

It felt like too much of a hassle to hide such affairs, however - Changkyun didn’t like hassles. Best to remain single. He wasn’t one for fleeting encounters and a romantic liaison would not exactly help him put food on the table.

Changkyun could be ambitious, but he had priorities.

“What else do you know about them?” Changkyun asked. “About this Mr. Guhn and his medium friend.”

“Not that much,” Jooheon responded with a shrug. “All rumors, probably all rubbish.”

“Like what?”

“They say the medium is a witch or something,” Jooheon said and shuddered. “People say there is no way he can be so accurate with his readings and not have made a deal with the devil.”

“Yes, that does sound like rubbish,” Changkyun said with a scoff. “He’s probably just very observant. And his ‘talks to the dead’ are likely a bunch of preconceived messages of ‘be happy’ and ‘I forgive you’ and ‘remember to be virtuous’ or whatever it is people who want to talk to their dead relatives wish to hear.”

“I don’t know,” Jooheon said, scratching under his jaw nervously with the hand that wasn’t busy holding his paper bag of popcorn, “he might be the real deal, he might not, but I don’t want to find out either way. If he’s a witch he could put a curse on us.”

“There’s no such thing as curses, Jooheon. Or witches, for that matter.”

“I would rather not test that theory.”

“You have nothing to worry about, I’ll go there on my own.”

Jooheon almost tripped over his own feet when spun around to look at Changkyun, again stopping abruptly and causing Changkyun to crash into him. “What!?”

“What?” Changkyun echoed. “It’s just a house.”

“A house with ghosts in it!”

“Ghosts aren’t real,” Changkyun groaned the words, getting tired of the discussion already. “We have bills to pay and debts to settle, you might have a job now but we both know cleaning lion shit at the circus won’t pay much. We’re out of options.”

“You could get a job too!” Jooheon argued. “You’re smarter than anyone I know, you could work at, I don’t know, an office or something.”

Changkyun snorted. “No respectable office would ever hire me.”

“Work on that attitude and they might.”

“Funny, you should get a job as a comedian.”

“Changkyun— I mean it, don’t go there,” Jooheon pleaded, using his best kicked puppy expression. “I have a weird feeling about it, you’ll get yourself in trouble.”

“It’ll be fine,” Changkyun promised him, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’ll just go over to the mansion, get an idea of the layout, see if it’s doable, if there’s a way inside. If I find that it’s too dangerous, I’ll call it off.”

Jooheon made a whining sound and threw his head back, obviously wanting to argue but knowing it would be for naught. He had his target set and, when that happened, Jooheon already knew nothing could change his mind.

He hadn’t gotten into any trouble so far; this time would be no different.

◦ ◦ ◦

As much as Kihyun loved the ocean, the open water, the sight of the rapidly approaching docks eased the weight on his heart, which he’d been carrying with him throughout all those months he had to spend away. Necessity had forced him to sail to distant shores, but he was back.

He was back.

He hoped he wouldn’t have to set sail without his two loves anymore - it had been his first voyage on his own, without them there to support him, and while he certainly was forced to learn some new tricks which added to his skills, it had been absolute hell. Alas, Hoseok couldn’t sail anymore, and they couldn’t leave him alone for so long; Kihyun had always been the best at running the ship and the one responsible for their business dealings, so it was logic that dictated who should be the one to go and who should be the one to stay behind to care for Hoseok.

They had never spent so much time apart, though. Logic had never prepared Kihyun for how difficult it would be, for the nights spent with his eyes wide open staring at foreign ceilings, praying and hoping his loves were safe and well, stressing over the possibility that they were not; he could not do anything. He’d left to provide for them a certain stability, which was, at its core, another way of protecting them and ensuring their well-being, but he wasn’t _ there_. He wasn’t _ with _ them.

The three of them had sailed the world together, had made a name for themselves transporting goods from one side of the ocean to the other, but they had always done it as a team - being on his own didn’t feel right. He hoped the products he brought back this time would be enough to keep them afloat, that they could use the profit from selling them to change their situation, to move away somewhere Hoseok could recover and rest.

Kihyun vowed, just as the ship docked, that he would never set sail on his own again - it would be with his loves, or not at all.

He shouted the orders to his crew - set down the gangplank, start unloading the crates, take everything to the warehouse - and once they began moving to do as they were told, Kihyun took a second to breathe, standing in the middle of the deck with his head tipped up, facing the cloudy sky. The fall air stung his lungs, but it was a welcome sensation, soothing; the same air Hoseok and Hyunwoo were breathing.

He was home. 

Kihyun shook himself, forced his mind to focus on the tasks at hand. He had much to do still, had to overlook the entire operation, from the ship to the warehouse, before he could fully relax at the thought of being home. He moved to the railings, set on watching over the unloading process, make sure nobody dropped anything - if they broke the bottles of spirits Kihyun would have their livers for dinner.

As he looked down at the docks from the main deck, Kihyun’s already high spirits were lifted even further when he spotted a familiar set of wide shoulders. He wasn’t expecting him to be there, was already planning on sending a message for him to come over to help him with all the crates and his own luggage, so this was— it was the best surprise, truly.

“Hyunwoo!”

Hyunwoo looked up immediately upon hearing Kihyun call his name, his own expression shifting into a wide smile, one of those that had his cheeks lifting so high his eyes all but closed. Happy as he was, though, Kihyun didn’t forget himself or where they were, how many people were around them, so he leaned forward to shout, “Come up here, I need your help with something!”

He didn’t have to repeat himself; Hyunwoo came rushing across the boardwalk and up the gangway to get on the ship. Kihyun met him at the top of the plank, but held back from touching him - he’d been away for months, he could contain himself for two more minutes. With a motion of his head, he indicated the way towards the quarterdeck, prompting Hyunwoo to follow him up to the captain’s quarters. A few men of his crew gave them suspicious looks, some that had been with them for longer stopped to greet Hyunwoo, but none of them said anything. They likely would, but only between them and when Kihyun wasn’t within earshot.

Kihyun felt giddy, his entire body buzzing; it was almost like they were teenagers again, sneaking around to steal a kiss or ten away from prying eyes.

Now they were fully grown adults, sneaking around to steal a kiss or ten away from prying eyes.

Kihyun opened the door to his cabin and ushered Hyunwoo inside with a wave of his hand. He’d barely closed the door behind them both, latching it to avoid interruptions, and already there was a pair of strong arms wrapped around him, a warm breath on the side of his neck. Kihyun leaned into him, back pressed to Hyunwoo’s wide chest and closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the moment.

“Welcome home,” Hyunwoo murmured in his ear and it was good he was holding him up already, otherwise Kihyun would have melted and fallen to a heap on the floor.

“Thanks, dearest,” Kihyun said, tilting his head back and a bit sideways so Hyunwoo could reach his lips to kiss him. “I didn’t know you were working at the docks.”

“Surprise,” Hyunwoo joked, boyish face taken over by a smile.

Kihyun laughed and turned around in Hyunwoo’s embrace so he could lace his arms around his neck, pull him into himself in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you so much,” he breathed the words, hands coming up to hold Hyunwoo’s face still so he could kiss him all over - his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his eyes, his lips, “every second I was away was torture.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Hyunwoo said, and in a very Hyunwoo manner all but picked Kihyun up off the ground, the action making Kihyun giggle uncontrollably - he was so happy he would not have been able to contain himself even if he’d tried. “So did Hoseok, he talks about you all the time.”

Kihyun’s giddiness slowly leaked out of him at the mention of Hoseok, the smile falling off his face as he asked in a softer tone, “How is he?”

Hyunwoo didn’t answer right away. He fixed his grip on Kihyun so he wouldn’t fall and carried him to the bed at the far side of the cabin, where he sat down still with Kihyun in his arms; it was the type of thing Hyunwoo did that always made Kihyun feel both like a small child and like nothing could touch him, like Hyunwoo was a fortress that could defend him from anything.

Hyunwoo couldn’t defend him from the most important thing, though.

“Some days are better than others,” Hyunwoo finally responded, Kihyun held tight in his arms. They could tease him for being the shortest of the three of them all they wanted, at the end of the day he still got to be held like that and it made it all worth it. “He’s been mostly doing alright these past few days, but—” Hyunwoo interrupted himself, a deep hitch between his brows. Kihyun began stroking his hair to try to soothe him.

“But what?”

“I’m always afraid of going home,” Hyunwoo revealed in a whisper.

The dread those words caused him left Kihyun frozen for a moment, his heart tight in his chest, a lump trapped in his throat making it harder for him to breathe. Hyunwoo noticed, of course, and kissed Kihyun’s forehead tenderly to try and comfort him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “you just arrived and I’m already—”

“Don’t,” Kihyun said with a shake of his head and tried to smile, frail as it probably looked. “It’s alright. I— I have to get used to this again, might as well prepare me now before I see him.” He tried to swallow that lemon-sized lump in his throat, but found that he couldn’t. “I don’t want to upset him by getting upset myself.”

“You’ll be fine. Both of you will,” Hyunwoo promised, his large hand cradling Kihyun’s jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. “He doesn’t look much different from how he looked when you left. A little thinner, perhaps, but I think I’ve done a good job keeping him well fed.”

“I’m sure you did,” Kihyun said and turned his head minutely to press a kiss to Hyunwoo’s palm. “The only thing that kept me sane was knowing you were here taking care of him. Knowing that you had each other.”

“Can’t say the same about you, on the other side of the ocean all on your own,” Hyunwoo’s voice tone was playful, but Kihyun knew it was a front to conceal how worried he’d truly been in his absence.

“I’m here now,” Kihyun replied, shifting on Hyunwoo’s lap so he could go from sitting sideways across his thighs to straddling them. Hyunwoo laced one arm around his lower back, to both avoid Kihyun slipping and falling and to hold him closer, upper bodies fully pressed against one another. He’d missed this, he’d missed this so very much— “I’m not going anywhere without the both of you again.”

“Good, because I’m not letting you leave,” Hyunwoo said, conviction in his words, and squeezed Kihyun tight against himself, almost to the point of discomfort. “Can we stay like this for a while?”

“We have over a hundred crates to unload and take to the warehouse,” Kihyun responded. “That and the crew will get very suspicious if we take too long in here.”

“Five minutes?” Hyunwoo pleaded, loosening his hold on him to pull back a little, just so he could give Kihyun the puppy eyes.

Kihyun scoffed, pretending that look on Hyunwoo’s face didn’t have any effect on him. “Like I don’t know you will try to trick me into staying here longer than five minutes.”

“Please, Ki?” Hyunwoo continued with his begging, his voice taking on a cooing quality that only came out when he was trying to act cute. “You’ve been gone so long, I missed you so much.”

Kihyun huffed and gave Hyunwoo an unimpressed look. Hyunwoo’s pleas aside, Kihyun already knew he would give in, but he still enjoyed making Hyunwoo work for it. “We’ll have all the time in the world when we get home.”

“But that will take hours.”

“I’m sure you can wait until then. You’re a patient man.”

Hyunwoo clicked his tongue to express his annoyance. “I most definitely am not.”

Kihyun laughed, deciding it was enough for the time being, and said, “Alright. _ Two _ minutes.”

Hyunwoo beamed at him and in a swift motion rolled them around so that he was lying on top of Kihyun on the bed. Kihyun giggled with the unexpected change in position, the giddiness making a return.

“I’ll take it.”

Kihyun was plenty aware that they would take a lot more than two minutes, but he decided he didn’t care - he’d just returned from a long journey, he deserved to indulge himself a little.

◦ ◦ ◦

Changkyun could see the mansion even from a distance, all the way up at the top of the hill with its darker than black outline against the cloudy night sky and the occasional light from one window or another. The ideal would have been to visit the place later, when the chances of every person in the mansion being asleep were higher, but Changkyun was aware that the moor was dangerous to travel in the middle of the night when the fog came down.

He made sure to tie his horse to a shrub at the bottom of a small hill, the angle just right so that the animal would not be visible from the mansion, before he continued on his way up the path; good thing he wore his comfortable boots that day - as in, the only pair of shoes he owned.

By the time he reached the mansion proper, Changkyun was huffing and puffing and questioning why he was there in the first place; surely there were easier places to rob, places closer to home that didn’t require hiking up a hill. He had to take a second to recover, lest that excursion ended with him coughing out his lungs, before he straightened himself up and looked upon the mansion before him.

It was an intimidating structure with its high, narrow windows and pointed towers, the smooth grey stones that formed its sturdy walls, the sheer magnitude of it giving Changkyun a foreboding feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach, a sensation of underlying dread which had been conjured without reason. It must look very different in the light of day, he thought - hoped - because if not, why would anyone wish to live in a place as unsettling as this?

And he hadn’t even approached the mansion from its front, but rather from the side to avoid attracting even more attention; he didn’t want to imagine how much more frightening it would be to be faced with the grandeur of the main steps, the wide double doors, the eye-like windows. 

Alas, standing there debating the fundamental reasons that made a place unwelcoming would not get him any closer to his goal of figuring out how to trespass into such a magnificent structure. He stealthily made his way closer to the building, pressing his body against the wall once he was near enough to avoid catching anyone’s eye through the window. It was dark inside whatever room he was standing outside of, no light from any direction to give him away, so he scurried swiftly from his current hiding place to the next available stretch of wall. So many windows - _ why were there so many windows? _

Sneaking around the mansion was a much longer, more nerve-racking affair than Changkyun had predicted, but, finally, he rounded the corner to the very back of the mansion. He could tell there was a garden there, could somewhat see the tall hedge gateway and the white stone path that lead into it, but it was far too dark to be able to see anything beyond that. The windows were wider there, and after being good for so long and playing it safe, he decided he wanted to peek inside.

He listened closely for a while, for footsteps or shuffling or any indication there was anyone around, before he poked his head in front of the window. He couldn’t see very much inside, not even after he cupped his hands around his eyes for that added help to his vision - he assumed that was a music room or a drawing room. He could see the vague outline of what looked like a grand piano on one side of the room, a light-colored sofa nearby, glass cabinets lining one of the walls and a low table. Those were the pieces of furniture close enough to the window that he could still make out, but beyond that, it was all pitch black.

It didn’t do his curiosity any favors, but there was nothing he could do about it. He moved on.

Changkyun was about halfway to the other side of the mansion when a light came on, illuminating the floor right in front of him and causing him to nearly jump out of his skin. He pressed himself back against the wall, one hand covering his mouth and nose to muffle the sound of his breathing. Immediately he winced and stepped away from the wall again, his back stinging in a number of different places - there was a sort of metal grid that ran from the ground to the very top of the building, vines and flowers twisting and snaking their way through the openings. Looking over to his side, he found that it wasn’t a window but a set of glass doors next to this grid, and on the other side of the doors, there was another decorative grid with vines and flowers. That was probably the main doorway to the gardens. 

He caught movement from the corner of his eyes and pressed himself against the vines once more, this time bracing himself for the discomfort that came with it. There was the outline of a person on the strip of light from the window; in fact, he could hear two muffled male voices and laughter floating down to where he was. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he could hear the nuances of their timbres fairly well, enough to know when which of them was speaking.

He watched the shadow move around, the silhouette coming and going from that strip of light as if the owner of that shape was very busy. After what felt like an eternity - not more than two minutes, but when you’re in the middle of nowhere trying to remain unseen by the dwellers of a spooky mansion, time moves differently - the shadow stopped in front of the window. Changkyun held his breath, pressed himself further back into the vines, ignoring how the thorns from the flowers were digging into his skin through his clothes.

There was a metallic sound from above and a squeak, like a hinge turning, and suddenly the voices were clearer, louder; whoever it was had opened the window. Changkyun bit his lips, pressed even closer to the wall.

His caution to not be caught, however, was the very reason why, when he pressed harder against the grid, one of the flower stems broke, the sound slicing through the still air of the night.

“I told you, it’s going to be—” 

He heard the voice float down from above, heard its owner interrupt himself.

“What is it?” came the second voice after a brief stretch of silence, which Changkyun concluded to belong to someone standing further away from the window.

“I thought I heard something outside.”

Changkyun’s heart all but stopped and he closed his eyes tight, prayed to whatever god was paying attention to the likes of him that whoever it was didn’t go outside, didn’t look down, didn’t send someone to check the grounds. Did they have guard dogs? If they did, he hoped they didn’t send the dogs.

“Do your ghosts not know all? Can’t you see in your mind’s eye who or what was responsible for it?” the second voice asked in a teasing tone, earning an amused huff from the man who was at the window.

“Of course I can.”

Changkyun barely held in a whimper. _ Don’t look down_, he prayed inside his head, _ don’t look down_. No such things as ghosts, but he assumed the medium - who was obviously the one at the window - had functional eyesight.

“What is the issue then?”

“None at all,” the medium said, his tone haughty. “I think it’s time for me to retire for the evening, it’s late and tomorrow will be a busy day.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me what the source of the noise was?”

There was a pause, a pause during which Changkyun was certain he would have a heart attack.

“It was just a mouse on the hedge.”

Changkyun immediately relaxed. Yes. Just a mouse. He was just a mouse and nothing more.

And that was obviously a terrible medium.

“I’ll have the servants set the traps in the morning,” the second voice said.

“A fine idea,” said the medium. “You should leave this window open, it gets so stuffy in here.”

“Indeed.”

The conversation moved away from the window and, eventually, died down. Changkyun took a few deep breaths to calm himself before he stepped forward, into the light that now fell on the floor uninterrupted, and looked up. The ornamental grids passed right by the large windows where the man had been standing, and he could see that it was unlatched, cracked just a little in a way that would be easy to push it the rest of the way open.

Changkyun had found his way in.

◦ ◦ ◦

Hyunwoo led the way up the stairs to their top floor apartment, Kihyun following him quietly. He could almost feel the nervous energy radiating from him, could almost smell his anxiety - Hyunwoo understood. He, too, felt nervous any time he came home, always uncertain of what he would find within the walls of their dwelling.

They reached their door soon - perhaps too soon, the time it took them to go from the bottom of the winding staircase not enough for them to fully prepare, but, then again, Hyunwoo figured there was not enough time in the world to prepare them for this. Whatever they found inside, they would just have to cope. He placed Kihyun’s baggage trunk - the heaviest one, as he insisted on carrying it for him - on the ground so he could search for his keys in the front pocket of his trousers. Kihyun stopped right behind him, and he felt the feathery weight of his hand resting on his back, between his shoulders. It eased his anxiety some, since whatever happened, Kihyun was home now. He wouldn’t be alone.

Hyunwoo held his breath as he pulled the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door, Kihyun’s fingers twitching with anticipation on his back. The door opened with a loud creak, the old hinges moaning in that forlorn way that always had goosebumps of dread running up and down Hyunwoo’s body. He looked over his shoulder to Kihyun, finding a pinched expression on his face, complexion pale.

“Do you want me to go in first?” he offered, and Kihyun, after a second’s hesitation, accepted the offer with a quick nod.

Hyunwoo heaved the trunk from the floor again just to place it inside the apartment, by the entrance, and made way for Kihyun to get in so he could shut the door behind them; Kihyun entered with a reservation that would be more fit for a stranger and not someone who had lived there for years.

Kihyun left his suitcase, which he insisted on carrying himself, alongside the trunk, exhaling heavily while he straightened himself. Hyunwoo took one of his hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead, trying somehow to ease his nerves. Hyunwoo had to deal with that fear every day, but Kihyun wasn’t used to it, not anymore.

Not that there was a way to fully get used to such a thing.

After exchanging one more look with Kihyun, Hyunwoo finally gathered his nerve and let go of his hand to venture further inside the apartment, crossing the short hallway to the bedroom. He was spared of the torture of getting to the other side, however short a walk it was, by the voice that sounded from behind the closed door.

“Hyunwoo? Is that you?”

The tension bled out of him and he smiled, hearing Kihyun’s hurried footsteps behind him just as he pushed the door open.

Hoseok was reclined on his pillows, an open book over his lap, and his smile as bright and welcoming as it always had been - some days, like that one, it was easy to forget Hoseok was ill.

“It is me, and I’m not alone,” Hyunwoo said, entering the room so the doorway wasn’t obstructed by his wide frame and Hoseok could see who was standing behind him.

The way Hoseok’s entire being lit up was the type of thing that made everything, all their efforts, all their hard work, worth it.

“Kihyun!”

Kihyun rushed to Hoseok’s side so swiftly he was a blur when he ran past Hyunwoo, who stood by the door and watched as his two loves reunited, Kihyun embracing Hoseok without reservations, peppering his face with kisses. Hoseok laughed, loud and joyful, as he let himself be held by Kihyun.

“God, I’ve missed you,” Kihyun said, holding Hoseok against himself, fingers tangled in his dark hair.

“I’ve missed you too, Ki,” Hoseok responded, chin resting on Kihyun’s shoulder. He opened his eyes to meet Hyunwoo’s and added, “We both did.”

Kihyun parted from Hoseok to look back at Hyunwoo too, his eyes shiny with tears but his smile loving and warm. Hyunwoo could burst with happiness.

“Come on, sit with me,” Hoseok said, scooting over closer to the wall to make room for Kihyun and Hyunwoo on the bed next to him. Kihyun laughed but happily obliged after kicking off his boots, climbing on the bed and cuddling up to Hoseok’s side. Hyunwoo took a second longer to do the same, wanting to fully commit that sight of his loves happy and smiling to his memory before he joined them; there was barely any space for him, the bed too narrow, but they shifted around until they were all comfortable, the actions practiced and mastered by the three of them long ago.

Who would have thought, back when they were only boys huddling together on a single bed in the orphanage to keep the cold at bay, that they would end up still having to huddle up on a bed that was far too small for the three of them, in a cheap old apartment they could barely afford.

Some things truly don’t change.

“How were your travels?” Hoseok was asking Kihyun, half-laying on top of him much like Kihyun was half-laying on top of Hyunwoo. “Did you have fun?”

“It’s impossible to have fun without my two favorite people by my side,” Kihyun responded, nuzzling the side of Hoseok’s head affectionately. “But it was a very good trip. I’ve made some good deals and I’ve brought _ so _ many goods to sell - it will certainly improve our situation. And,” Kihyun’s voice turned mischievous, “I have brought many gifts for you.”

Hoseok’s eyes lit up. “Gifts? What gifts?”

“A lot of sweets, for one,” Kihyun said, laughter in his voice. Hyunwoo had missed his voice, always so melodic. “But I’ve brought other things, both for you and Hyunwoo.”

Hyunwoo’s mind wandered as he listened to them talk, memories of their humble beginnings surfacing in his thoughts. Kihyun had always been the most refined of the three of them, having had a significant amount of education before the passing of his parents and his arrival at the orphanage, at the early age of ten. He was the one who had taught both Hoseok and Hyunwoo himself to read and write, in fact. Kihyun, the intellectual, the one who had the most business sense, who handled their finances, their legal problems, the one who figured everything out, who always had a plan.

Where Kihyun was their head, Hyunwoo was their body - he was the muscle, the protector, the one who took care of Kihyun and Hoseok, both younger than himself, defended them from the other kids and, at times, the adults that treated them unfairly. It was to Hyunwoo they turned to when they were scared or lost, when they were faced with the hard decisions, the one they trusted to lead them. Hyunwoo hoped he had the clarity to never lead them astray.

And Hoseok— Hoseok was their heart. Hoseok, with his charming, friendly personality, with his empathy and warmth, he was the one who gave them strength when things were hard, the one who offered them comfort and encouragement. He had been very tiny as a child, a scrawny little thing, but he had grown to be strong, as strong as Hyunwoo - until the illness came, that is.

How cruel it was, that such an awful thing would happen to Hoseok, who was the best person they had ever known. The best person they would ever know. The best of them, and everyone else.

“But how have _ you _ been, bunny?” Kihyun’s voice brought Hyunwoo back to the moment, and he hoped his loves hadn’t noticed his distraction. “You’ve lost so much weight, has Hyunwoo not been giving you enough food?”

The playful question was accompanied by a sideways glance from Kihyun, who was pursing his lips to contain a smile. Hoseok giggled and shook his head.

“He’s been giving me plenty of food. More than I actually need, I think,” he responded. “It’s being stuck in this bed what is truly bad for me.”

“Oh, bunny,” Kihyun sighed the words, kissed Hoseok’s once chubby cheek, “I can only imagine how dull it must be to stay in bed all day every day, but the weather is far too cold right now for you to go outside.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Hoseok said, lips jutting out in a pout, “I didn’t mean to complain, I know you both are only doing what you must for my sake.”

“Things will get better soon, I promise,” Kihyun said and took one of Hoseok’s hands in his, brought it up to his lips to press a kiss to his palm. “I have enough product to sell to maybe get us a house in the countryside, as we talked about.”

“That would be lovely,” Hoseok said, resting his head on Kihyun’s shoulder again. “A change of scenery.”

“A much-needed one,” Hyunwoo agreed.

“Besides, I’m back,” Kihyun added, cheerful in a way Hyunwoo could tell was no fabrication. “I’m sure I can find ways to keep you entertained, as we both know how terrible Hyunwoo is at telling jokes.”

That had Hoseok laughing loud and Hyunwoo pinching Kihyun’s cheek in retaliation.

“My jokes aren’t _ that _ bad.”

“They aren’t that good either, love.”

Hoseok’s laughter doubled in intensity at that exchange, which had both Kihyun and Hyunwoo laughing along in no time. Their moment of fun was quickly cut short, however, when Hoseok’s laughter turned into a fit of coughing. Kihyun and Hyunwoo held their breaths for a moment, Kihyun moving to rub soothing circles on Hoseok’s back when he doubled forward with the sheer force of the coughs.

Hoseok was quick to use the handkerchief he kept in his pocket to cover his mouth, hide the blood that certainly was staining the yellowed fabric from Kihyun - knowing Hoseok, Hyunwoo knew he wouldn’t want Kihyun to see it moments after arriving home from a long journey.

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok said, voice hoarse, when the coughs subsided, “I forgot myself for a moment, I’m alright.”

“Of course you’re alright,” Kihyun agreed, scratching Hoseok’s nape gently with his nails. “Do you want some tea? To soothe your throat?”

“I’ll make it,” Hyunwoo offered, already disentangling himself from Kihyun so he could get up.

“Are you sure?” Kihyun asked, although he made no move to leave Hoseok’s side.

“Yes, you’re tired from your journey and haven’t seen Hoseok in a while,” Hyunwoo told him with a smile. “Rest and catch up, I’ll handle supper and prepare some tea for us.”

“Very well,” Kihyun agreed after a moment, “but only for today.”

“As if anyone can stop you when you decide to do something,” Hyunwoo teased and watched fondly the way Kihyun’s grin turned bashful, the way Hoseok looked up at him with nothing but love in his eyes.

That— that was all that mattered. His loves both safe, happy, by his side. He would go to the ends of the earth to make sure to keep it that way. For as long as he could.

◦ ◦ ◦

Jooheon was just about to go to bed when Changkyun came barreling through the front door of their little apartment, looking— looking the complete opposite way Jooheon had been hoping he would look. Since that morning, Jooheon had been quietly praying for Changkyun to find nothing at the old mansion in the moor, hoping it would be an impenetrable fortress, whatever it took for Changkyun to give up that stupid, stupid idea.

He didn’t look dejected, though - he looked excited.

Jooheon made a pitiful noise and grimaced. “No, no, no.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Changkyun replied, laughter in his voice. He went as far as to approach Jooheon, grab his head with both hands and pull him down to give him a noisy, obnoxious kiss on the cheek that had Jooheon spluttering and trying to break free. “I have a way inside the mansion and from what I could tell there aren’t many servants, it’s doable! I just have to wait for everyone to be distracted at the party.”

“This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever decided to do, Kyun,” Jooheon said, wanting to sound reproachful but only managing to sound— well, whiny.

“You’ll take those words back when I come home tomorrow night with a small fortune,” Changkyun said and moved away after giving Jooheon a condescending pat on the head.

“What about the medium?”

Changkyun was in the middle of shrugging off his coat and didn’t look back at him as he spoke. “Hm? What about him?”

Jooheon had to stare at Changkyun for a few seconds, just to make sure he was being serious. “Uh… He’s a _ medium_. If he’s the real deal he will definitely catch you.”

“I doubt it,” Changkyun said as he tossed his coat over the back of a chair, leaving his old tattered flat cap on top of it. “He didn’t sound that good.”

Jooheon felt his insides turn to ice, eyes going wide. “You talked to him!?”

Changkyun snorted and shook his head. “No, I just heard his voice.” His face shifted into a thoughtful one. “He has a pretty voice. He sounds young, too, around our age.”

Jooheon gaped at Changkyun. What did the medium’s voice being ‘pretty’ and ‘young’ have to do with anything? “So you just heard his voice and that was enough to know he’s a hoax?”

“Yes? I mean, not exactly,” Changkyun replied, his hair sticking out in odd ways after being trapped inside his cap for so long. “He just said some things and based on those things I don’t think he’s a very good medium.”

“You are impossible,” Jooheon declared, throwing his hands up in the air and moving the two steps it took to cross their living room into their cramped bedroom. “You’re going inside a haunted mansion, for God’s sake! If you get a ghost stuck to you on your way out, don’t come crying to me.”

“Yeah, well,” Changkyun said with a shrug, a shit-eating grin on his lips, “I’d rather be haunted by a ghost than have to clean elephant poop.”

Jooheon’s only response to that was to throw a pillow at Changkyun’s face.

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm hoping for updates every friday, but... well, we'll see.
> 
> thanks for reading!♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ghostlike91) | [tumblr](https://ghostlike91.tumblr.com/) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ghostlike)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for not-so-veiled extremely-poorly-written sort of sex scene, talks about mortality, a sad attempt at writing a séance, Gay Panic™, and hyungwon looking very good
> 
> enjoy!♡

◦

Despite the fact that he’d had to wake up at the crack of dawn, Jooheon’s first day of work with the circus was going well. He’d been shown around by one of the senior employees, had met the animals he would tend to - in fact, he’d gotten along exceptionally well with Barya, the elephant - and had been introduced to most of his new colleagues. Everyone was very friendly, very welcoming; people had always made it sound like the people who work at circuses were rude and strange, which had made him apprehensive about taking the job, but, so far, everyone Jooheon had met had been nothing but courteous towards him.

Nobody tried to lick his face, like his landlady had warned him about.

What did she know? She never worked at a circus. Certainly never made friends with an _ elephant_. Jooheon had. He was friends with the elephant.

Changkyun would be so jealous when he told him.

He’d just finished feeding Barya her breakfast and cleaning her pen, and was making his way to where the lion and the tiger were kept, to feed them their breakfast and clean their cages. After that, he would have to take care of the three monkeys, which was the part Jooheon was the least excited about. Those monkeys were _ mean_. Jooheon had decided to take his time with the lion and the tiger - scary as they were, they didn’t throw things at him. Very disgusting things. As in, poop.

Although, if he finished everything fast, he might have a little time to spare after lunch to watch some of the performers’ rehearsal at the main tent.

Such important decisions he would have to make - to avoid the unpleasantness of dealing with the monkeys for as long as he could, or to get it done as soon as possible for it to be over faster.

These were the thoughts swirling in his head as he crossed the path towards the very back of the circus grounds, where the lion and tiger were. There were much fewer people there, especially at that hour, the workers focusing their efforts at the main pathway where most of the booths and carnival games would be set up.

The relative isolation of the place was the reason why, when walking past a large wooden shed, one that the senior staff had told him contained mostly hay and spare tools, he heard the sounds coming from within very clearly.

He stopped in his tracks and turned towards the shed, listening to the noises. He couldn’t quite pinpoint them, couldn’t tell what they were from the distance he was standing. He debated continuing on his way and ignoring the sounds completely, but the inquisitive part of him was itching to go see what it was.

He looked towards the shed, then ahead at the path that led to the animals. He was being paid to clean cages and help with tending to the animals, not to snoop around.

Besides, as his grandmother used to say, curiosity killed the cat.

...but satisfaction brought it back. That last part, his grandmother often chose to omit - and that was likely the main reason it was the part he often latched onto.

_ Satisfaction brought it back. _

Cursing himself in his mind for being so predictable, Jooheon snuck his way over to the shed. The sounds became clearer, louder, although still muffled as if whoever was making them was trying to be secretive about it - which, of course, only made Jooheon that much more curious.

The closer he got, the more obvious it became what those noises were - the sounds of skin hitting skin, throaty grunts, stifled moans. Jooheon felt his face heat up, considered running away, yet that curiosity only grew stronger and more urgent.

He should leave. He should turn back and walk away and pretend none of it had ever happened, give whoever was inside that shed some privacy to finish their, uh, ‘business’.

And while all those very nice, proper thoughts crossed his mind, his feet were still taking him forward, closer to the shed, as if he was in a trance. His body moved beyond his control, no matter how his brain was shouting at him to get out of there, to go back to work and stop creeping around.

He found himself right next to the shed and thought to himself that, if he was already there, might as well take a quick peep. It was harmless, right? It’s not like he would go around gossiping about it.

Pressing his face to the old grey wood of the shed so he could line his eye with the space between one board and the next, Jooheon had to blink a few times to adjust to the lack of light inside. Once his vision adapted, the first thing he could discern was a square haystack, upon which someone was, uhm— bent over.

Jooheon’s face might as well be on fire, so hot it was.

It was, to his surprise, a man - as if fornicating in a public space was not scandalous enough - and he had one hand over his mouth to muffle any sounds, his eyes closed. He looked— he looked like he was enjoying himself, Jooheon could tell at least that much. He couldn’t see well, only from the man’s upper torso and up, so whoever was behind him, making him gasp and moan into his hand, his entire body moving vigorously forward and back over that haystack with their thrusts - which couldn’t be comfortable, something the man didn’t seem to care about much - remained a mystery.

Not that Jooheon wanted to find out who the second person was. Not at that point. It was enough that he saw one of them, could recognize his face if they walked into each other and he didn’t think he would be able to conceal his discomfort if - when? - he did. He hoped that man wasn’t an employee there. The chances were slim, but he could hope.

Jooheon’s feet were rooted to the ground, and he was barely blinking as he watched the man’s face, the shifts in his expression. It wasn’t the act he was witnessing what was keeping him there, he found, but those very expressions. They would haunt them later that night, when he closed his eyes to sleep.

He was so mesmerized that he didn’t realize right away that the man had opened his eyes, the slightest bit, and was staring right at him. He only noticed when the man removed his hand from his mouth and— smiled at him.

That instantly brought Jooheon back to the ground, and he did what anyone with sense would have done in his place.

He bolted.

He ran all the way back to the front of the grounds, the complete opposite way he should be going, faster than he’d ever run before. His heart was pounding, not from the physical exertion but the adrenaline, the shock, the fear of the retribution that certainly would come once that man and his partner left that shed and came to find him. Would they beat him up? Threaten him into silence? _ Kill him?_

No. No, that would be silly, of course they wouldn’t kill him—

Or would they?

Jooheon was shaking as he leaned against a support beam to recover from his shock, just by the main tent. He was not a prude - far from it - but being faced with such a display was not something that happened every day. It had to be a curse, how those things kept happening to him - first Changkyun and his stupid idea of robbing a haunted mansion, monkeys throwing feces at him, and now witnessing that explicit scene of debauchery on his very first day at that job and, worse, being _caught_.

It was a curse. It had to be a curse, how else to explain that chain of events? He wouldn’t be surprised if the ground opened up beneath his feet and swallowed him whole, with how his luck had been.

He would apologize. Yes, apologize for intruding, make it clear that he had no intention of reporting them and that—

“Did you enjoy the show?”

Jooheon yelped and jumped away from the voice that just whispered in his ear, eyes wide with fright and cheeks rosy with shame. There he was, the man he had just seen with his face pressed against the haystacks, standing before him looking like he was _ proud _ of being caught red-handed. Or, well, red-faced. Red-assed? His cheek had a few scratches from where it was pressed to the hay, so red-faced.

Jooheon spluttered, feeling much like an overheated tea kettle. “I— I didn’t— I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

The man chuckled. “Sure you don’t.” He stepped closer, looking like the cat who’d gotten the cream. Jooheon couldn’t help but think that he’d certainly gotten a _ different _ kind of cream just now - good thing he was too mortified to laugh at his own thoughts. “My name is Minhyuk, I’m the fortune teller here.”

Oh. So he was sort of his co-worker. Which meant Jooheon would have to be around him and see him every day. _ Great_.

And— a fortune teller? Oh no. No, no, no, he would _ not _ start a problem with a goddamn _ fortune teller_.

Be polite. Be nice.

“I’m— I’m Jooheon,” he somehow managed to say.

Minhyuk’s grin widened, a true Cheshire grin if Jooheon ever saw one. “Very nice to meet you, Jooheon.” He came even closer. Jooheon stepped back, which for some reason seemed to delight Minhyuk. “You’re cute. If you ever want to—”

“No! No, thank you!”

Minhyuk stared at him, amusement dripping off of him. “If you ever want to have your fortune told,” he said very slowly, only for Jooheon’s wish to disappear from the planet completely to increase tenfold, “I’ll give you a reading for free.”

“A-ah. Alright.”

Minhyuk stared at Jooheon for a long moment, eyes wandering over him from head to toe, in a manner that was almost— appreciative. Jooheon wasn’t sure if he should feel flattered or concerned. Maybe a little bit of both?

After what felt like centuries, Minhyuk said in the bluntest way possible, “And if you ever want to bend me over the haystacks, you can do that too.”

Jooheon made an inhuman noise through his nose - much like an overheated tea kettle - and power-walked away, Minhyuk’s laughter the background noise to his shameful departure.

If the ground opened up beneath his feet and swallowed him whole, not only would he not be surprised, he would also be very thankful.

◦ ◦ ◦

Kihyun wished he could enjoy some peace and quiet after returning from his months-long journey, but he had illegal goods that needed to be sold, buyers that had to be contacted, numbers to crunch and inventory to do. There was truly no rest for the wicked, especially when the wicked in question were in a hurry.

Hyunwoo had taken it upon himself to buy them breakfast, had gone out early to avoid being stuck in line at the baker, so Kihyun was left to prepare for the long day ahead on his own. Hoseok was still in bed, although he’d been awake for as long as Kihyun had been - telling him to go back to sleep had been useless. Like talking to a boulder.

He was in their living room, reading over the ledger that contained all the names of their clients, marking which ones they should prioritize - as in, the ones more likely to spend a lot of money on contraband, mostly business owners who bought large quantities of product to resell. It was hard to focus; he was tired, not completely recovered from his trip, and already cracking under the pressure of seeing Hoseok again, how his condition had worsened significantly since he left. Hyunwoo had made it sound like Hoseok was doing better than he actually was - he said he looked almost the same, but he didn’t. He didn’t.

It was like Hoseok had— shrunk. Hoseok had been _ huge _ once, a giant mass of muscle, arms like logs, and now… He’d lost so much weight. There were still vestiges of muscle here and there, but it was like his body had deflated like a balloon. His cheeks, too, once chubby, were now gaunt and flaccid, the circles under his eyes deep and dark. It was like— like Hoseok was sinking into himself.

It could be worse, of course. All things considered, for the amount of time Hoseok had been sick, he was doing well; he wasn’t looking entirely cadaveric just yet, and that was something Kihyun didn’t take for granted. Hyunwoo had done a great job caring for him, and Hoseok himself was behaving well, trying to get better.

And he would get better. Whatever it took, whatever the cost, Kihyun would find a way.

The sound of shuffling footsteps forced Kihyun off his (failed) attempt at focusing on the names written on the ledger and he raised his head to find Hoseok entering the living room, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He smiled, getting up from the chair he’d been sitting on to welcome him.

“What are you doing up?” Kihyun asked, extending his hands in an invitation for Hoseok to come closer. “It’s so early, you should stay in bed and try to sleep some more.”

“I’m not sleepy,” Hoseok replied, taking Kihyun’s hands and immediately lacing their fingers together. “I’m tired of lying down, besides. I have to walk around for a little or I’ll go insane.”

“And we don’t want that,” Kihyun quipped. “Are you very hungry? I can try to make you something with what we have in the icebox.”

“No, I’m alright, Ki,” Hoseok replied, nudging Kihyun’s cheek with the tip of his nose, “I can wait for Woo.” He looked down at the desk, at the mess of papers and the open ledger. “Do you want help?”

“No, I can handle it,” Kihyun said, getting a sour look from Hoseok.

“I’m well enough to read over some papers, you know?”

“I know you are,” Kihyun said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t want to argue that with Hoseok, especially because he wasn’t rejecting his help because of his health, but rather because of the fact that Hoseok wasn’t as— _ neat _ with that sort of thing as Kihyun was. “I just have a system going to keep everything organized.”

“Right,” Hoseok said, sounding unconvinced. “Is there anything you do need help with? Anything at all? I can put all the documents in alphabetical order.”

“My, you’re _ really _ bored, aren’t you?” Kihyun said, chuckling. “There’s really nothing for you to do right now, but I’ll think of something for next time. I’m sure the ledger will have to be updated soon, so that’s something you can look forward to.”

Hoseok sighed, not happy but resigned to that solution. “Fine. Can I go with you and Woo to the warehouse, then?”

“In this weather? Absolutely not.”

“Ki, _ please_, just for a little while?” Hoseok’s whiny tone paired with those puppy eyes almost broke Kihyun’s resolve - but only almost.

“Don’t waste your breath, dearest, you’re not coming,” Kihyun insisted, turning towards the table to gather up the documents and start putting them away. It was more of a way to keep his hands busy, to have something else to focus on other than Hoseok’s pleading eyes, otherwise he would crack. “It’s too cold out, it’ll be bad for you.”

“I’m _ supposed _ to get lots of fresh air!”

“And you will, once the weather is warmer,” Kihyun replied, firm, hoping that would be the end of it.

Hoseok was relentless, though. “But I feel fine!”

“You say that now, but you’ll be outside for five minutes and change your mind,” Kihyun stated, dropping everything he was doing again so he could lace both arms around Hoseok’s waist. Hoseok exhaled, frustrated, but allowed Kihyun to pull him close. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

“You only say that because you don’t have to be cooped up in here on your own all day every day,” Hoseok grumbled under his breath. “Time moves slower.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” Kihyun said, bringing one hand up to pat Hoseok’s cheek gently. “It’ll be better soon. Once the money starts coming in, either I or Hyunwoo will be able to stay home with you, so you won’t be alone anymore.”

“It’s not just that, I feel— useless,” Hoseok revealed, and the pain in his eyes was such that Kihyun could have cried. “I sit here all day while you two have to work non-stop to provide for us and take care of me. The guilt is killing me faster than the consumption ever could.”

“Don’t say that,” Kihyun said, a little too harshly - he couldn’t help it, though, not when Hoseok spoke like that. Like— like he was giving up. “You’re not useless and you have nothing to feel guilty for. You didn’t ask to be sick.” He gathered Hoseok in his arms like a child, hugging him as tight as he dared. He felt so small in his arms, the difference in bulk compared with how it used to be before Hoseok got sick making Kihyun’s heart ache. “We love you so much, bunny. Nothing we do for you is a burden, because _ you _ are not a burden, not by a mile. I know things are difficult right now, and yes, Hyunwoo and I are working hard to make sure you can recover as comfortably as possible, but this is temporary. Everything is temporary.” Kihyun kissed Hoseok’s forehead, stroked his hair. “Once you get better you can go to work all on your own while Hyunwoo and I stay home doing nothing, how’s that?”

That, at least, made Hoseok laugh. “Sounds like a deal.” He hooked his chin over Kihyun’s shoulder, leaning more into him. “I miss going out with you two. I miss our ship. I miss sailing. I miss the ocean.”

“I know you do, love.”

“I want to be buried at sea,” Hoseok suddenly said, the words chilling Kihyun’s very soul. “When I die, I want to be buried at sea. I don’t want a grave.”

Kihyun swallowed down the lump in his throat, blinked back the tears that had gathered in his eyes in an instant. “That won’t happen for a while still.”

“It doesn’t matter. Whenever it happens, be it tomorrow or in fifty years— that’s what I want.”

Kihyun tried to will his heartbeat to slow down again from where it had spiked at the topic; he was working himself up without need, it was just a conversation, it wasn’t a farewell. Just Hoseok telling him of his wish. That’s it.

It felt so hard to breathe.

“Alright,” he agreed, the only thing he could do, and turned his head so he could press a long kiss to the base of Hoseok’s neck.

Hoseok tightened his arms around Kihyun. “I’m sorry for bringing it up so suddenly, I know it’s not the greatest thing to hear right now. I just— I want to make it easier for you and Woo, when the time comes.”

Kihyun couldn’t speak, his throat too tight with the urge to cry to allow him to talk, so he just nodded to acknowledge Hoseok’s words and held him tighter, hiding his face in the crook of his neck so Hoseok wouldn’t witness his distress. Hoseok didn’t need that, not on top of everything else, and Kihyun understood where he was coming from - Hyunwoo and Kihyun would be the ones to deal with the aftermath of his passing. The ones who would have to handle funeral arrangements, make decisions regarding cemetery plots and gravestones and epitaphs; Hoseok was, truly, trying to help them by saying what he wanted for himself, taking that responsibility of deciding off of their shoulders.

It did make it easier, no matter how painful the mere thought of it was.

They held each other in silence for a long time, time enough for Kihyun to get a grip on himself not to alarm either Hoseok or Hyunwoo - the latter who was probably on his way home already. He should finish getting ready to leave, relocate his thoughts back to business instead of his premature grief.

“I love you, bunny,” Kihyun murmured next to Hoseok’s ear before he pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and pulled away, somehow finding it in himself to smile. “When the weather isn’t so cold we can go take a walk on the docks, maybe even take the ship out to sea for a while.”

“I would like that,” Hoseok agreed with a smile of his own; Kihyun couldn’t help but notice his eyes were a little misty with unspilled tears, too. 

“For the time being, is there anything you’d like me to get for you? A new book, maybe a jigsaw puzzle?”

“Either sounds good,” Hoseok said, stepping away, out of Kihyun’s embrace. “A puzzle seems more entertaining, though. I’ve been reading books nonstop, I could use something different.”

“I’ll get you one of those with a thousand pieces, then,” Kihyun promised, just as the front door creaked open and Hyunwoo came in, carrying a large paper bag in his arms. There was a strange, almost haunted look on his face, but it was gone as if never there the moment Hyunwoo’s eyes locked with his, being exchanged for a warm smile, the one that made his eyes crinkle.

“The line at the baker was no joke,” was the first thing that came out of Hyunwoo’s mouth.

“I was about to call the police, you were gone so long,” Kihyun quipped, watching as Hyunwoo dropped the bag atop their table.

“And I was about to start drawing some missing person flyers,” Hoseok joined in, and Kihyun felt his heart tighten again. He should be happy - Hoseok was doing well that morning, was strong enough to walk around and play, but after their conversation the only thing in Kihyun’s mind was that those sorts of moments could end any day. That their time was short and the clock kept ticking.

Hyunwoo glanced over at Kihyun but luckily didn’t make any comments on his melancholic appearance. For the moment. “Joke all you want, you’ll thank me for taking a little longer when you see what I have.” He dug around the paper bag for a couple of seconds, producing from there two relatively large pieces of gingerbread cake.

Hoseok beamed at him, already reaching out to receive one of the cakes. Hyunwoo laughed and gave it to him easily - it was the largest piece, Kihyun noted. Good, it’s what he would have done too. Hoseok, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice it, far too happy with the treat to care about the size.

“Go back to bed, Hoseokie, it’s too cold here,” Kihyun said, pulling Hoseok’s earlobe affectionately. “I’ll bring you some tea soon.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, cold is not good for me, blah blah blah.” Still, he pressed a kiss to the top of Kihyun’s head and another to Hyunwoo’s cheek before he obediently made his way back to their bedroom.

Only once he was gone did Hyunwoo lean closer to Kihyun to ask in a low voice, “What’s wrong?”

The lump in his throat made it hard to speak, but Kihyun somehow found it in himself to croak, “He wants to be buried at sea.”

Kihyun didn’t have to explain any further, Hyunwoo’s expression darkening almost immediately. He didn’t say anything in response beyond pulling Kihyun into a tight embrace, seeking to comfort and be comforted in tandem; Kihyun didn’t know how else could they carry on if not like that.

Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse for that morning, Hyunwoo whispered in his ear in a somber tone, “I ran into our landlord downstairs.”

Kihyun pulled back from the hug and stared at his face for a second before asking, “Why do you sound like that? Are we being thrown out?”

Hyunwoo shook his head. “No. Not yet.” He pressed his lips together, looked away at the floor. “He asked me about Hoseok, why he hasn’t seen him in a while.”

Kihyun could already feel the panic begin to stir again, just as soon as he had willed it to lessen. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him Hoseok had contracted chickenpox,” Hyunwoo said with a wry chuckle, his eyes shiny with tears. “That was months ago, a little after you left. He’s starting to get suspicious, chickenpox doesn’t take so long to fade.”

Kihyun closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, and then another. “Alright. We’ll add finding a new place to live to our list of priorities.”

“I’m sorry, Ki, I—”

“Don’t, you have to stop apologizing,” he said, smiling up at Hyunwoo, hoping he didn’t look as desolate as he felt. “You did the best you could, but we've always known our situation is— dicey.” He pressed a kiss to Hyunwoo’s lips and took the gingerbread cake he still had in his hand before sitting back down on his chair. “At least people still believe we are brothers, imagine the commotion if they find out we’re a bunch of sexually deviant, consumption-riddled degenerates.”

Hyunwoo snorted. “Right. Brothers.”

“Very close brothers,” Kihyun corrected him with a cheeky grin. More seriously, he added, “We’ll figure this out, as we always do.”

◦ ◦ ◦

Changkyun’s return to the mansion that evening was much easier than his initial visit, no doubt a consequence of his adventure the night before to get familiar with the layout of the land. He tied the horse he’d borrowed from Mr. Brian - again - on the same shrub behind a hill, and approached the mansion from the same side he had the previous night.

He still reached the top of the hill feeling like he was about to collapse, so while some things had become easier, others continued to be a hassle.

Going around the mansion was trickier this time around; the house wasn’t dark and still, but alive with activity, servants going back and forth, guests pacing the halls of the ground floor, lounging in the various rooms. Changkyun had to walk further away from the windows, rush from cover to cover to remain unseen.

It wasn’t much easier on the garden, at the back of the mansion - where it had been dark the night before, it was now illuminated by several lamps scattered around the landscape, making his mission that much harder. He could, if there was no other option, stride with confidence as if he was supposed to be there and pretend to be one of the servants, but he would only do that if extremely pressed; even the servants in this place wore fancy clothes, and Changkyun’s attire was clearly not of a similar caliber.

The strange part was, in a situation where everything could go wrong, where one poorly-timed movement could get him caught, his path to the metal grid he would climb was, improbably, completely clear of any people. Servants that turned away just as he was about to walk by a window, guests that were too preoccupied with something else to pay attention to their surroundings. It gave Changkyun a certain confidence, as if him being there was right, that it was all a sign that things would go his way and he would return home that night with a sizable loot to rub in Jooheon’s face for having doubted him.

Upon reaching his objective, Changkyun pulled the sleeves of his coat down to cover his hands, added protection against those damned thorns, and began his climb. He had been bracing for an uncomfortable few minutes, but he hadn’t been prepared for _ how _ uncomfortable - it was not just the thorns, but the insects, ants and spiders and beetles, as well as the vines themselves catching onto his clothes, scratching his skin. This entire operation better be worth it in the end, he thought, because so far it was proving to be a nuisance.

Relief surrounded him when, in a last effort, he pulled himself from the grid and into the window, unlatched and half-open exactly as it had been the night before, waiting for him. Again, he felt lucky - the ledge was wide enough to give him steady footing, and with only a slight nudge he pushed the window open the rest of the way and slithered his way inside.

The room was dark now, much like the rest of the rooms in the upper floors of the mansion, but Changkyun could see plenty with the light that came in from the gardens; it was a reading room, rows and rows of shelves stacked with books, sofas and lounging chaises here and there, an unlit fireplace at one corner. Cozy, were Changkyun the kind of person worthy of such a room; he would certainly love to have his own reading room, but what would someone like him do with a reading room? Set it on fire for warmth during winter, if anything.

Books for kindling. How fancy of him.

Biting his tongue not to laugh at the bitterness of his own thoughts, Changkyun made his way to the door - unlocked, to add to his certainty that this would all go according to plan - and from there, things became that much more dangerous.

He found himself in a wide corridor, a single door on each side; bedrooms, he presumed, considering the layout of the house, the apparent size of those rooms. Where was he more likely to find something valuable, be it jewelry or money, if not in the bedrooms?

His luck had apparently begun to run out, however - both doors were locked when he tried turning the handles, and trying to break into them would be far too noisy, attract too much attention. Cursing under his breath and giving the door on the left an angry little kick that was not nearly as hard as he wished it could be, he continued on until the end of the corridor, the landing of the main staircase opening before him. Sounds from downstairs floated up more clearly there, the conversations and clattering of cutlery, servants’ footsteps, laughter.

There were more rooms on the other side of the landing, more bedrooms, perhaps, or maybe a study - a study would be ideal for his purposes too, usually where safes and vaults were kept - and there was another set of stairs leading upwards, to the third floor. All he had to do was cross the landing, pass in front of the main staircase unseen, to continue his exploration. Easy. Piece of cake.

He lowered himself to a half-crouch to avoid being seen from the ground floor, and began making his way forward. He peeked over the balustrade in search of anyone who could spot him, but the foyer below was empty of any people, be it guests or servants. The party had started for a while, it seemed, for everyone was gathered in one of the rooms beyond instead of lingering at the entrance. Good, it lined up perfectly with Changkyun’s needs.

He carried on more confidently, crossed the wide stretch between one side of the landing to the other - or almost. He heard footsteps coming from the third floor, towards the stairs which he was standing right in front of, and panic took over his smug sense of confidence. He dove for the first door he saw, the one right by the stairs, but as the bedrooms had been, this door was locked as well.

The footsteps were closer now, and he could discern two female voices talking - servants, probably. Changkyun looked around in a frenzy, looking for something, anything he could hide behind, but there was nothing. There was no time to run back to the reading room or to try to find an open door, and he most definitely could not try to go upstairs towards the voices, so his only option was to go down to the ground floor; he really did not want to do it, hadn’t been even considering doing so as the second and third floors had been the only goals for him that evening, but it was either that or get caught sooner rather than later.

He made for the main stairs, keeping himself low as the footsteps upstairs came closer and closer. Descending the stairs felt like a bad idea, the archways on either side of the room aligning perfectly with the first-floor landing and allowing anyone looking that way to spot him. The only choice he had was to slip between the banisters of the balustrade, luckily wide enough for him to pass, and drop down to the ground floor between the side of the staircase and the wall.

Almost losing his balance when his feet hit the ground, Changkyun managed to keep himself upright by using his hands to steady himself, his palms surprisingly landing not on the wall but on a nondescript door hidden there. The footsteps kept coming down, the voices getting closer. He looked around again, trying to think against the drumming of fear in his ears, the shaking of his body, and decided that his only option was going through the secretive door he had just found.

He pressed his ear to it for a moment, only long enough to make sure there was no sound coming from there, nothing to indicate there were people within, and swiftly pushed it open and slipped inside, turning around to close and latch it to avoid being followed. His hands were shaking uncontrollably, his breathing shallow and erratic, his heart about to tear through his ribcage, but he willed himself to relax.

A little too soon, he found.

“Now_ you _ do not belong here.”

Changkyun all but froze, heart close to jumping up his throat and out of his mouth, when he heard the familiar voice behind him. He was afraid to turn around and face his discoverer, but also afraid to open the door and flee, risking detection by the many servants that were prowling the halls beyond.

Out of the frying pan and right into the flames; Changkyun decided that it was best to face the person more likely to have mercy on him if he pleaded for forgiveness, the one with actual power to choose _ not _ to punish him.

He forced himself to uncurl his fingers from the door handle and slowly, head low like a dog aware of its bad behavior and awaiting its sentence, he turned around to meet his captor face to face.

Changkyun found himself in the presence of a vision in a deep crimson velvet jacket and a black lace blindfold tied over his eyes. He was watching him, though - he could feel his gaze on him despite the obstacle of lace. Changkyun stared, unable to do anything but; from the pearl-white hair to his plump lips to the long legs crossed where he sat on a dark green armchair, hands resting idly over his knee.

This was the most beautiful, most mysterious person Changkyun had ever seen.

“You seem lost, little mouse.” He spoke again, and there was humor in his voice. Changkyun couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad sign. “Did you get turned around on your way to the riches hidden in this place?”

Changkyun opened his mouth, but no sound came from it. What could he say in response to that? ‘_Yes, sure, you caught me, I was here to rob you_’?

He should defend himself. Say he was a relative of one of the servants, perhaps, come to help with the party?

When he finally found his voice, however, what he said was, “Can you even see anything through that?”

The man chortled, a soft, airy sort of sound that felt unreal, before he stood up from his seat. “I can see perfectly well. I understand how it might be off-putting to you, though. My apologies.” He raised his hands and lifted the blindfold from his eyes, removed it from his head entirely.

Changkyun was expecting to be met with unusual eyes, eyes that spoke of wickedness and danger, but his were a lovely pair of relatively normal eyes, despite the strange color; the closest Changkyun could come to describing it was ‘hazel’. It was a dusty, muted color, but it wasn’t grey, it wasn’t green, and it wasn’t brown - it was something in between all three. Still, there was nothing in them that betrayed anything out of the ordinary about this man, and yet something about him had Changkyun feeling dizzy, hyperaware, chills running up and down his body, a sensation he would likely associate to seeing a ghost.

“A prop for the show,” the man explained, holding up the blindfold between his index and middle fingers. “It adds a certain mystique to my character, don’t you think?”

“You are the medium,” Changkyun concluded - as if that wasn’t already obvious.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” he said. “My name is Hyungwon and yes, I am ‘the medium’. And a fortune teller, some would say.”

“Are you the real deal?” Changkyun asked, maybe a little too defiant for someone who should be acting contrite. “Or are you just selling snake oil?”

Hyungwon cocked his head sideways, watching Changkyun with a faint smile on his lips. “Answering that question would make things very dull, little mouse.” Another step, a wider smile. “Or would you prefer I call you by name, Changkyun?”

Changkyun’s stomach dropped, much like his jaw did. “You— How do you know my name?”

Hyungwon was looking far too smug for his own good, and Changkyun hated that he couldn’t find it in himself to be miffed about it. “How, indeed. Maybe the spirits told me. Maybe I sold my ‘snake oil’ to someone who knows you and they told me. Maybe we’ve met before and you just don’t remember.”

“Which is it?”

“Which do you want it to be?”

Changkyun tried to step back, away from Hyungwon, but the heel of his boot knocked against the wood of the door behind him. Hyungwon noticed and huffed a laugh through his nose, something Changkyun chose to ignore; he was mortified enough.

“I think I would remember you, if we’ve met before,” Changkyun finally said, in the hopes of covering up his panic. 

“Then you can cross that option from the list of explanations,” Hyungwon responded smartly, coming to a stop in front of Changkyun, at a respectable distance but somehow still too close. “You have nothing to fear from me.” Hyungwon reached out a hand, palm up, prompting Changkyun to take it. “Permit me to read your fortune, as a demonstration of my good intentions.”

Changkyun hesitated, both from fear and from how overwhelming it was to face Hyungwon from so close - his eyes were bright and sharp and beautiful, his lips bitten red and inviting, his features unusual in a way that made him look like something otherworldly. He simply could not be real. His hair couldn’t be that color, nor could his eyes - he’d mentioned props for a show, and maybe that’s what it all was. Maybe Hyungwon was just a very good actor.

He certainly had Changkyun fooled so far.

Hyungwon was still waiting, watching him intently, and Changkyun, at last, decided to indulge him; he almost didn’t, too ashamed to touch Hyungwon’s pretty, well-manicured hand with his dirty paw, but— Hyungwon _ had _ offered. 

If he noticed the state of Changkyun’s nails or if he minded it at all, Hyungwon showed no indication. He took Changkyun’s hand gently, his touch feather-soft, and held it so his palm was facing upwards. He then brought his other hand up, over Changkyun’s, and ran his long, elegant fingers along the lines of his skin, prompting more chills, more shudders, more shivers, to run through Changkyun’s body. His touch, faint as it was, felt electric, charged, leaving a buzzing trail behind wherever it went, and it wasn’t at all an unpleasant sensation.

In fact, Changkyun found himself wanting more of it.

“I see a little mouse,” Hyungwon began relaying his fortune in a low, conspiratory voice that had Changkyun thrown off-guard entirely, “a little mouse who will leave this antechamber once all eyes are focused on me in a few minutes. He will go up the main staircase all the way to the third floor of this house, where he will find himself at the start of a long hallway.” Changkyun realized what Hyungwon was doing, his confusion growing that much stronger at each word that left his pretty lips. “He will cross this hallway to reach the door at the end of it.” Hyungwon moved his free hand to pluck something from the front pocket of his jacket, something he placed on Changkyun’s palm - a key. “Through it lies a study, and inside there is a desk just under the window. In the very top drawer, on the right side, he will find a wooden box - that is his prize, and he is free to take it and leave this place unhindered.”

Hyungwon left the key on Changkyun’s palm, coaxed him to close his hand around it with both his own. Warm hands, delicate hands. Changkyun looked up at him, a thousand questions in need of answers written on his face.

“Why?” he asked Hyungwon, his voice coming out much weaker than he’d expected. “Why are you helping me? You should be throwing me out.”

“Oh, should I?” Hyungwon said teasingly. “Forgive me the disappointment.”

“It’s not disappointing, it’s— unexpected,” Changkyun corrected him, careful, choosing his words. “I don’t understand why you would be willing to let me leave despite knowing I meant to steal from you.”

“So you admit you were here to steal.”

Changkyun, realizing his mistake, promptly clamped his mouth shut - not that it mattered anymore.

Hyungwon laughed, shoulders shaking with it. His laughter had Changkyun’s head feeling light. “It’s alright. I told you, you have nothing to fear from me.”

They stared at each other for a moment, a heartbeat too long, and Changkyun felt odd, as if they had exchanged a million words through their eyes alone, as if something had passed between them. And then Hyungwon stepped back, away from him, out of reach, his expression shifting back to the vague amusement Changkyun had seen when he first laid eyes on him.

Changkyun stood there, dazed into stillness from the entire exchange as the gears in his mind struggled to make sense of it all, feeling orphaned by his touch. He watched Hyungwon replace the blindfold over his eyes, fix his hair around it, and as he did, he came to a sudden realization.

“You knew I was here last night.”

Hyungwon looked over at him once more, the fact that Changkyun now couldn’t see his eyes unnerving him to the core. He didn’t need Hyungwon to confirm nor deny the statement, it was plain to see - _ it was just a mouse on the hedge_.

Hyungwon did so anyway. “As much as I knew you’d be back.”

“Yet you left the window open on purpose so I could get in,” Changkyun continued, accusatory, even as the small voice in the back of his mind shouted at him to keep his mouth shut and leave, “and now you give me instructions instead of punishment. Why?”

“Answering that question would make things very dull,” Hyungwon repeated the line he’d used earlier, and Changkyun could see it was with the sole purpose of annoying him. It was working. “Let’s just say I’m in a generous mood.”

“Generous?”

“Yes. The real answer would take more time to explain than what I can currently spare, I’m afraid.”

“What do you gain from this?”

Hyungwon’s lips curled up in a mysterious smirk, one that Changkyun felt like a punch to the face. “That’s not the question you should be asking.”

There were three knocks on the door on the other side of the antechamber, next to where Hyungwon was standing. Changkyun nearly jumped out of his skin, but Hyungwon merely turned over towards the sound for a moment before his attention shifted to Changkyun again.

“Sadly, that’s my cue, and the end of our meeting,” Hyungwon said and moved towards the door, speaking over his shoulder at Changkyun. “Go on, now, find your prize and hurry home, little mouse. You don’t want to be in the moor when the mists roll in - that’s a sure way to get yourself killed.”

Before he left the room, though, his hand already on the door handle, Hyungwon turned to Changkyun one last time.

“Oh, and please leave the key under the blue vase that sits by the main doors on your way out. It wouldn’t do for me to be locked out of my own study.”

And with that, Hyungwon opened the door and left, and Changkyun found himself in the antechamber with only the pounding of his heart for company. He almost wanted to chase Hyungwon, ask him not to go; his presence made him nervous, but being without him somehow felt even worse. With him there at least Changkyun had someone to turn to, whether he understood Hyungwon’s motivations or not. Hyungwon seemed— friendly.

It could all be a trick, of course. For all he knew, Hyungwon could be trying to lead him right into a trap. There could be someone waiting in the study to arrest him, even.

But why go as far as to purposely leave the window open for him to enter, if he was planning to turn Changkyun in? He also could have screamed for help the moment he found him there, but he didn’t.

He heard the muffled sound of applause coming from the direction where Hyungwon had gone to, the faint murmur of the guests of that party, and Changkyun couldn’t contain his curiosity. The door behind him was locked, so certainly there was no danger of him being discovered while peeking through the other door, just to get a glimpse of what was happening outside. He wanted to know what Hyungwon could do, wanted to know just how good a medium he was - he had to admit, from their brief private encounter, he was impressed.

He snuck through the room, to the second door, and carefully turned the handle to make as little sound as possible. He pushed the door open just enough that he could press the side of his face to it and see outside with one eye. Almost immediately did he spot Hyungwon, a bland smile on his lips as he greeted the lords and ladies present; the next thing Changkyun noticed was the man standing next to Hyungwon, a tall, weasel-faced, sharp-dressed man with platinum blonde hair that brushed his shoulders and intense dark eyes. He was acceptably attractive with his modelesque proportions and facial structure, although Changkyun found Hyungwon’s beauty much more appealing - which was, in any case, irrelevant.

That must be Mr. Guhn. He looked much younger than Changkyun was expecting.

One standing next to the other, though, Changkyun could easily see why people spread rumors about them. They were a pair of handsome young men, and they looked— fitting together. Two powerful presences in one. And the way Guhn had his gloved hand on the middle of Hyungwon’s back—

Something akin to jealousy spiked in Changkyun’s chest. Guhn’s touch on Hyungwon had a possessive quality to it, something easy and familiar, and Changkyun had an issue with that; his fleeting encounter with Hyungwon should not have made him feel so strongly about it, yet he still was envious of Guhn, of how he could be near Hyungwon like that, touch him easily like that.

It was madness, it made absolutely no sense. Hyungwon was a stranger, no matter how handsome. To want to be near him, to want to touch him after an exchange that lasted less than five minutes was ridiculous.

He could still feel the phantom touch of Hyungwon’s fingertips on his palm, though. His scent, flowers and honey, was still lingering in the room. He couldn’t stop thinking about his lips or shuddering at the fresh memory of his eyes.

Maybe Jooheon had been right, maybe Hyungwon truly was a witch and he’d just put Changkyun under a spell. There was no logical explanation for that— _ need_.

“Dim the lights!” came a voice from outside that snapped Changkyun from his reverie, a voice he belatedly recognized as Guhn’s - the same voice he heard the night before, while he stood under the window, the voice that came from deeper within the room. He didn’t like his voice, Changkyun decided - it was too loud, too on the high-pitched side; it was nothing like Hyungwon’s voice, more soothing, gentler in cadence, lower in timbre.

Again, Changkyun’s insides coiled and twisted at the sight of Guhn whispering something into Hyungwon’s ear, at the smile Hyungwon gave him in response before he moved towards the large, circular table in the center of the room. Guhn had the privilege of seeing that smile every day. Lucky bastard.

The room became darker, the lamps being dimmed one by one by the servants until the only source of light was the single candle sitting in the middle of the otherwise clear table. Hyungwon took a seat gracefully, his chosen chair one that fell right in Changkyun’s line of vision - if it was done on purpose, he didn’t know. He liked to think that it was, that Hyungwon knew he was watching. He probably did.

The guests all took their places around the table - Guhn sitting next to Hyungwon, Changkyun bitterly noted - and only once all of them were settled was that Hyungwon spoke.

“Please, place both hands on the table,” Hyungwon instructed, “and make sure your little finger is touching the next person’s. It’s important that you don’t move your hands during the session.”

All the guests did as Hyungwon instructed, the last of them to move an arrogant-looking man who suddenly said, “And what of the offerings? Any respectable medium puts out offerings to the dead, so they will be inclined to approach us.”

Changkyun wanted to slap that man over the head for implying Hyungwon was not respectable in his own home; being the real deal or not, that was just disrespectful and Hyungwon had, so far, been nothing but courteous. He reeled the sentiment in as best he could - that strange protectiveness was beginning to make him nervous.

Hyungwon didn’t seem fazed, however. “The dead are dead, sir. A soul has no need for flowers or sweets. Besides,” Changkyun saw the quirk of his lips even in the dim light before he said, “they are already here.”

A nervous hush fell over the room, the guests exchanging glances amongst each other; Changkyun himself felt a chill run down his spine at Hyungwon’s affirmation. Guhn, on the other hand, merely watched their reactions with the smuggest expression Changkyun had ever seen.

“I ask that you do not speak unless spoken to, to avoid needless chaos,” Hyungwon requested, and took a deep inhale of air, only speaking again once he’d exhaled. “We may begin.”

From the get-go, he could already perceive the difference of Hyungwon’s session when compared to other séances Changkyun had been witness to - there was no flare, no dramatics, no silly rhymes to invite the dead to speak, no prayers. It was too soon to tell if it would remain such, but, so far, Changkyun had to admit that there was a certain legitimacy to the way Hyungwon conducted his séance.

Nobody made a sound for a long time, and even Changkyun found himself holding his breath in anticipation. He thought nothing would happen, after all, but soon he realized that the temperature had dropped in the room, a considerable amount - Changkyun pressed his lips together in fear his breath would be visible and call unwanted attention.

Then he heard a faint knock, far on the wall behind Hyungwon - that was more in tune with normal séances. Disappointing, Changkyun thought. There was a second knock, much closer, followed by a third one. Changkyun was expecting the knocks to continue, but silence fell over the room again, stretching for an unnerving amount of time.

It was because of that silence that Changkyun could hear the very clear footsteps entering the room, approaching steadily. _ Thump. Thump. Thump. _

How was he doing it? Was there a contraption of some kind hidden under the floor?

There was a loud creak on the floorboards, very close to the table, that had a few of the guests jumping on their seats with surprise. Changkyun himself flinched, but his eyes never left Hyungwon’s face - for that reason he saw the moment he twitched, his entire body moving with it, all in less than a second, fast and subtle.

When he spoke again, it was not Hyungwon’s voice Changkyun heard, but a young woman’s.

“Father, you were most rude. You should apologize,” Hyungwon - or the ghost? - said, his head turned to the man who had questioned him before.

The man’s eyes went wide. “Lena?”

“Of course it’s me, who else?”

“How is this possible!?” the man demanded, eyes moving from Hyungwon to Guhn in a mixture of anger and fear. “My daughter has been dead for almost a decade, how are you mimicking her voice?”

“Father, please,” Hyungwon continued to speak with the girl’s voice. “You are embarrassing yourself. And I!”

“How are you doing this!?”

“If you don’t wish to speak to me, I am going to leave and give someone else a chance!”

Changkyun didn’t notice his jaw had dropped. Not only was the voice steady and not at all similar to Hyungwon’s, but the intonations and sentiments behind it were entirely those of a headstrong young lady. Even the accent was different, the words enunciated very clearly in a way that betrayed something that was taught and practiced, like— like in boarding schools.

How, indeed, was he doing it? Ventriloquism, perhaps? There was someone hidden somewhere speaking for him? But no— No amount of practice could lead to Hyungwon’s lips moving in time with the voice, in an intelligent conversation that was taking place in real time. Could he just mimic voices incredibly well?

“If it is truly you,” the man said, still on the verge of lividity, “then tell me something only my Lena would know.”

“Oh, for—” the ghost sighed, obviously annoyed, “very well. When you sent me to boarding school, I spent the entire eve of my departure crying.”

“Any of our maids could tell me that,” the man said with a scoff.

“But they could not know what you said to me when you entered my room in the middle of the night, sick and tired of my whimpering,” the ghost continued; the man’s face went lax. “Should I repeat it in front of all these fine people?”

“Lena—”

“Stop your sniveling,” Hyungwon continued, and now he sounded like a young lady mimicking the voice of an older man, “or I’ll ship you off to school without a tongue, you stupid girl.”

The guests gasped and murmured amongst themselves, all of them staring at the man who was now truly shocked into silence.

Then Hyungwon laughed and it wasn’t at all the laughter Changkyun had heard earlier, when Hyungwon laughed during their conversation in the antechamber; it was a girl’s laughter, high pitched, almost a squeal. “Oh, father, your face! This is fun! How I wish mother was here to see it. Why didn’t you invite her? I know you two despise each other but an invitation to such a gathering is basic politeness and—”

Whatever else the ghost had to say was drowned out when the man, that by then was nearly foaming by the mouth with anger and shame, roared, “How dare you speak to your father like this!?”

The ghost giggled in response, Hyungwon’s head tossing back with the action as if thoroughly amused. “Raise your voice all you want - I’m already dead, it’s not like you can beat me bloody as you used to anymore.”

“Lena—!”

“I’m bored! Farewell, send my regards to mother,” the ghost declared, and as if a cord had been cut, Hyungwon sagged forward, head hanging over his chest.

Changkyun wasn’t sure how much more shocked he could become, and while he wasn’t keen on finding out he was too mesmerized by the performance to leave. He should. He was wasting precious time, but— 

Another knock sounded in the room beyond, closer to the window this time. The candle flickered, the flames expanding upwards in a most unnatural way, a serpentine ribbon of fire. Then came another knock, another creak on the floorboards. Changkyun’s hands were shaking, a sinking feeling of dread in his heart. Hyungwon’s head was still hanging forward, a puppet with no strings.

Another knock, louder, closer, followed by another and another, until the entire room was a cacophony of rappings that came from every direction, one over the other, deafening and terrifying. How was he doing it? How many people would be needed to replicate such a phenomenon?

A knock sounded right next to Changkyun’s head and he instinctively jumped back, away from it. He looked to the point of the wall where he’d heard the sound before he looked forward again.

Hyungwon’s head was raised once more, and Changkyun could feel his eyes on him even behind the lace. He felt it as if he’d been struck by lightning, felt that gaze all through his body.

Then the door slammed shut, seemingly on its own, and Changkyun took that as his cue to leave.

He scrambled to the other side of the room, unlocking the door with shaky hands and all but falling through it. There was nobody in sight, so Changkyun forced himself to remember Hyungwon’s instructions through his unfocused thoughts. Main staircase, third-floor.

How he managed to climb up the stairs was a mystery with his legs feeling like gelatin, but Changkyun ascended those steps as swiftly as his uncooperative body allowed; it certainly took longer to reach the third-floor landing in such a state than it would have were he feeling more like himself. Just as Hyungwon had told him, he found himself at the beginning of a long hallway. It was dark, none of the lamps lit along the walls, the only illumination that which leaked from the lower floors and only enough that Changkyun could walk without worrying about tripping over anything. It was eerie, the darkness making the space look narrower, and if Changkyun stared too long he could almost believe the walls were closing in.

Of all the rooms in the mansion, Hyungwon _ had _ to send him up to the spookiest place.

At least he was consistent.

Changkyun had to take a deep breath to gather his courage before he began crossing that corridor, the light that spilled from under the door on the other side his guide. Good thing Hyungwon had the courtesy of leaving that light on for him, he was not looking forward to stumbling about inside a medium’s study blindly - he was still reluctant to believe in ghosts and ghouls, but he didn’t want to break something. Who knows, Hyungwon’s ‘generosity’ might sour.

The key Hyungwon had given him was still secure in his hand, his fingers sore from how hard they were clamped around the metal ever since, and it was a relief to finally put that key to use - the door unlocked with ease, and Changkyun was sure to push it all the way open, to be certain there was no one hiding behind it.

He was, at first glance, alone.

Closing the door behind him not to attract any attention, Changkyun carefully began his exploration - he could spot the desk Hyungwon had described to him, under the window, immediately, but he was curious enough to take a small detour on his way there. Compared to the rest of the mansion, this was the place that felt the safest, somehow; it smelled like Hyungwon, sweet, like flowers and honey. The decoration, too, wasn’t as exuberant or ostentatious as it was everywhere else, the colors muted but warm - woody tones, mostly, although the small round table sitting at one side was covered by a deep purple cloth. Changkyun made a beeline to said table, the cards spread over it in a half circle catching his attention.

A tarot deck, he realized right away - the cards were in very good condition despite looking well-used, the material black with a white filigree pattern drawn on the back. They looked customized; a gift, perhaps?

Changkyun decided against turning the cards over, too afraid to disturb the scene and betray his snooping, but there was one card lying face up somewhere on the middle of the table, apart from the rest. It depicted a man with the head of a goat and the wings of a bat sitting on a throne, a man and a woman in chains before it; at the bottom, in neat cursive, were the words ‘The Devil’.

Changkyun wasn’t sure if he should roll his eyes at the cliche or if he should be concerned - Hyungwon certainly had planted that card there to unnerve him. Certainly.

He moved on, then, to the desk where Hyungwon had told him his ‘prize’ would be. There too, he paused to explore - with his eyes, only his eyes - the items on display. The first object he took notice of was the oval mirror on a tarnished golden frame, an unlit candle sitting right in front of it; next to it was a black, leather-bound journal of some sort that had Changkyun’s entire being itching to take a peek inside - could it be Hyungwon’s diary? Were all his secrets held within those pages?

There was also a small stack of books on the desk, and Changkyun was surprised to find that they weren’t about the occult or spiritualism at all - they were all poetry books. Changkyun smiled to himself, not realizing he was doing so; Hyungwon, a romantic medium. It was— endearing. He could almost picture it, Hyungwon sitting at his desk, reading poems and wistfully looking out the window - it faced the garden on the back of the mansion. Changkyun could see it well from up there, lamps lighting up the rows of bright green hedges and colorful flowers, the stone fountain decorating its very center, the old statues giving it all a picturesque feeling.

That image of Hyungwon in his mind was a lovely one, and he would, for certain, revisit it later.

Alas, he’d probably stalled long enough.

Top drawer on the right side. Changkyun reached for the small iron handle and pulled the drawer open - just as Hyungwon had said, he found a wooden box waiting for him inside. It was a little bigger than the width of his hand, made of simple, unpolished wood, no carvings or decorations. He took it from the drawer and placed it on the desk before he unlatched it, just in case there was something dangerous inside.

His jaw dropped the moment he opened it - there was a thick roll of banknotes inside, tied with a black satin ribbon in a neat bow. Changkyun didn’t even need to count it to know it was plenty to cover the price of their rent for the month and likely the next several. He could buy new clothes with that, for himself and Jooheon, a necessity now that the weather was becoming colder. New blankets, as their old ones had holes all over them. They could buy decent food. New shoes. He wouldn’t have to glare at Jooheon any time his friend bought himself a candied treat.

Changkyun had to laugh to himself, that outcome far too ludicrous for him to comprehend. Hyungwon had just given him money. A _ considerable amount _ of money, and in exchange for what? ‘Feeling generous’ wasn’t a good enough explanation, not by a mile. There had to be a catch, something he couldn’t see at the moment; would Hyungwon seek him out in a near future, cash in on his kindness by demanding Changkyun provide him with a service? Would he blackmail him? Or was it really just— charity?

The thought stung his pride. He didn’t _ need _ charity. He could have robbed that mansion all on his own without Hyungwon extending his - very soft, very pretty - hand to help him.

He would still take the money, though.

As he pulled the money from the box, he heard a metallic sound coming from within - a silver locket lay in the corner of the box, having gone unnoticed so far. It would fetch a considerably high price if he went to the right pawnbroker. Pocketing the money, Changkyun took the locket in his hands, taking note of the delicate, thin chain and the smooth surface of the pendant; there was no flare to it, nothing engraved. He used one of his nails to open it, expecting to see a portrait inside - hopefully of Hyungwon - but that, too, was empty. It was just a silver locket.

He wasn’t sure if Hyungwon had placed it there on purpose or if it was an accident, but he _ had _ told him that whatever was inside that box was his for the taking. He would take that locket with him.

Changkyun pushed the drawer closed, but left the now empty wooden box open on top of the desk - a direct message to Hyungwon that said ‘found it, thanks’. After that, Changkyun turned around and left the study, closing and locking the door behind him. He’d wasted more than enough time, and he had no idea how long Hyungwon’s séance would last; his departure was overdue.

He hurried down the corridor back to the main stairs, descended them carefully and as quiet as he could. The foyer was empty, no servants in sight, and he could hear muffled sounds coming from the direction where the séance had been taking place - an indication it was still happening. A part of him worried for Hyungwon, how exhausted he would be once it was over, but he shoved those thoughts back under the carpet of his mind and continued on to the main doors. There, he placed the key to Hyungwon’s study under the blue vase by the exit, sitting atop a side table, as Hyungwon had instructed.

He hesitated before he opened the door, looking back over his shoulder towards the room where Hyungwon was. Something was pulling him back, calling to his very soul like a siren - _ go back_, it said. _ Don’t leave_. He wanted to see Hyungwon, talk to him again, at least one last time before he left; the chance they would ever meet again was slim, but Changkyun wanted to find out more. He wanted to ask him questions, questions about his ghosts, about his reasons for helping him, about his appreciation for poetry. Such an intriguing character, Hyungwon was.

It felt wrong to leave without learning more.

It felt wrong to leave, period.

It was getting late. The mists would come down soon.

He left.

◦ ◦ ◦

Jooheon had expected his new job to be hard, but as he began making his way out of the circus grounds that night, much later than his shift was supposed to end, with the muscles on his upper back sore and the palms of his hands burning, he had to double-back and slap his past-self in the face in thoughts.

Maybe Changkyun had been right. Maybe robbing the rich was a better way to make a living, because honest work was kicking his ass.

And the physical discomfort was nothing compared to Jooheon’s dread of running into Minhyuk again, the entire day spent looking around corners and hiding away behind tents and cages and vendor stalls. He had to continuously look over his shoulder all day to make sure Minhyuk wouldn’t spring up out of thin air to whisper in his ear and catch him by surprise.

Minhyuk was a menace. Little as he knew about Minhyuk, Jooheon could at least say that much.

Promiscuous and blatantly nonchalant behavior aside, Minhyuk was— there was something about him. It made Jooheon feel lost, as if Minhyuk was dancing circles around him, aware of something Jooheon was not privy to. It could be the fact that Minhyuk was a fortune teller and _ did_, in fact, know things Jooheon didn’t, but it went beyond predictions for the future.

It was Minhyuk himself that was the source of that something, whatever it was.

Jooheon preferred not to find out what that ‘whatever’ was, so avoiding Minhyuk felt like the safest bet.

He was nearing the exit, his escape in sight, when he heard a familiar voice somewhere to his left. He froze, pondering for a few seconds whether to run or to give in to his curiosity again, and he decided that he wanted to do the latter - it didn’t sound like Minhyuk was doing anything scandalous this time around, which encouraged Jooheon to get past his reservations and take a peek.

He swerved from his path, rounded the corner around a small tent, and immediately spotted Minhyuk sitting under a tent of his own, a plaque with huge, ornamental letters that read ‘Fortune Teller’ on top of it. Strange, Jooheon thought, that Minhyuk was already operating his tent if the circus wasn’t even officially open.

He wasn’t wearing anything special, though, just his normal clothes instead of a costume - likely he was doing his ‘readings’ on the side, pocketing the money for himself without having to share with the owner of the circus. Smart move.

Jooheon could see a table in front of Minhyuk covered in a shiny, bright purple cloth, a crystal ball at the very center, and small lamps hanging on the wooden backdrop behind him like stars. There was a man sitting on the other side of the table, in front of Minhyuk, although Jooheon could only see his back from that angle.

Minhyuk’s voice was loud and it carried well, so despite Jooheon’s comfortable distance he could hear everything he said.

“I would advise against investing right now - the stars aren’t aligned right,” Minhyuk was telling the man. “If you can keep your business steady until the next lunar cycle, you will find that your investments will be much more profitable. I see the number— seven?” Minhyuk closed his eyes for a moment, expression tight as if concentrating. “Yes, seven. Watch for the number seven - it’s a lucky number for you.”

Jooheon had seen enough, he thought. He should leave.

And he was about to, when Minhyuk looked up from the man, who was now standing up to leave, and his eyes zeroed in on Jooheon.

_ Oh, crap. _

“Jooheon!” Minhyuk exclaimed, waving a hand to him and completely ignoring his previous client as he put a handful of coins down on his table before vanishing from the tent. “Come here!”

Jooheon startled and looked around in a panic while he decided if he should run; he shouldn’t, though. Keeping on Minhyuk’s good side was probably the best idea, considering they would have to be around each other every day. Might as well be— civil.

He took a deep breath and walked over to Minhyuk, who was still sitting at his little round table, the coins having disappeared into his pockets. Now that he was closer, Jooheon could see the cards spread out over the cloth in a very specific pattern. Minhyuk followed his line of sight and grinned.

“Want me to read the cards for you?”

Jooheon jerked at the question and quickly shook his head. “N-no, thank you.”

“Are you sure? I did offer you a reading for free,” Minhyuk insisted, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his laced fingers, expression a mask of innocence. Jooheon knew better - after what he’d witnessed that morning, ‘innocent’ was the last thing on his mind when it came to Minhyuk. “It doesn’t have to be the cards, I can read your palm.”

Jooheon instinctively brought his right hand to his chest, defensive. Minhyuk delighted in that reaction, laughing out loud.

“None of that! I promise I won’t bite,” Minhyuk said and stretched both of his hands towards Jooheon. “Come on, let me!”

Jooheon still hesitated, but again, in the spirit of remaining on good terms with Minhyuk, he relented and sat down, spine straight as he perched at the edge of the stool. Minhyuk looked way too pleased.

“Your hand, please,” Minhyuk asked, theatrically polite, and Jooheon, despite his better judgment, placed his right hand, palm up, in Minhyuk’s grasp.

To Jooheon’s surprise, Minhyuk didn’t force him to keep his hand still, his grip careful, loose enough that he could easily snatch his hand back if he so wished. He was also expecting Minhyuk’s hands to be rough, but he found his touch soft, almost velvety smooth - he hated the fact that he didn’t dislike the sensation.

“Aw, you have such pretty hands,” Minhyuk cooed at him. Jooheon looked away, heat pooling in his cheeks; there was nothing pretty about his hands. They were rugged after an entire day of labor, his nails were dirty, his palms had reddened from pullings ropes. Minhyuk truly was full of rubbish. “Here, see this line? This is your Life Line, starts between your thumb and your index finger and goes all the way to the beginning of your wrist.” He explained, tracing the line in question with his fingertip.

“What does that mean?” Jooheon asked, more grumbling than speaking, still not completely on board.

Minhyuk seemed happy to be asked a question, though. “It means a lot! See how strong and defined it is? Means you’re very healthy, you don’t get sick easily.”

Alright, that was true. Jooheon couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been ill - it had been years. Changkyun tended to get sick much more easily, was susceptible to colds and fevers, and Jooheon hardly ever caught anything from him. Not that impressive so far, though.

“The lines over it, here and here,” Minhyuk continued, pointing at the points of his palm he was referring to, “see how they overlap the Life Line? These indicate big events in your life. Of course, they don’t tell me exactly _ what _ those events are, but— I think I might be able to guess.”

Jooheon didn’t like the devious look in Minhyuk’s eyes. Realization suddenly hit him that he’d made a terrible mistake by allowing Minhyuk to read his fortune, which was his fault for ignoring the most fundamental truth: Minhyuk was a menace.

“Let’s see,” Minhyuk began, eyes now focused on Jooheon’s face. “You lost your mother very young.” The first guess had been spot on. Jooheon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Your father got drunk a lot. You were raised by an older woman— your grandmother?”

Jooheon swallowed the unease so he could confirm with a simple, “Yes.”

Minhyuk smiled to himself, pleased. “Knew it. You didn’t have much growing up, but your grandmother made sure you never had to want for anything. She raised you well.”

“She did.”

“Her passing was very hard on you,” Minhyuk carried on, and Jooheon was starting to get scared at his accuracy, “but you were not alone. You have a friend.”

“I do,” Jooheon confirmed without thinking.

“Close as brothers. You like to play it safe, though, and your friend is a risk-taker, so you’re constantly worrying.”

“How do you know all that?” Jooheon’s question just tumbled out of his mouth, the disbelief too grand for him to contain himself.

“I’m a fortune teller! It’s what I do,” Minhyuk said with a bright smile. “Now this one here, right above the Life Line, the one that goes across your palm? That’s your Head Line.” Minhyuk traced the line in question again, showing it to Jooheon. “You have some education - home-schooled?”

“Y-yeah.”

“By grandma. That’s right,” Minhyuk agreed with a self-satisfied nod. “You’re also very creative. Very artistic. I imagine working at a circus is interesting for you.” Minhyuk looked up at Jooheon, eyes sparkling. Jooheon’s mouth felt conspicuously dry. “You have a mind for the arts and poetry, but you don’t pursue it because you have more pressing matters to be concerned about, such as money. That’s a big concern for you.”

“It is.”

“Next we have your Heart Line. This one up here, at the top,” Minhyuk said, his fingertips on his skin making Jooheon shiver. “This is the most fun one to read! It’s your emotional self and your love life.”

“Uhm,” Jooheon stammered, “I don’t think—”

“You’re a bit of a scaredy-cat,” Minhyuk kept going, tapping a point of Jooheon’s palm, “right here. You’re not superstitious, per se, but you give a wide berth to anything that can remotely be bad. Bad luck, curses, ghosts, witches…” Minhyuk’s eyes flickered up to meet Jooheon, a smirk playing on his lips. “...fortune tellers.”

Jooheon gulped. “S-sorry.”

“Nonsense, Jooheonie,” Minhyuk said, his smirk widening into a full-on grin, “I told you, didn’t I? I won’t bite.” He leaned closer to add in a lower tone, “Not unless you want me to.”

Jooheon spluttered and tried pulling his hand away, but what he’d judged to be a loose grip before was, in fact, much firmer than he realized. Minhyuk held him in place.

“Shush, I’m just joking,” Minhyuk said, giggling, “don’t you want me to finish reading your fortune?”

“Not really!”

“Come on, you big baby,” Minhyuk said, tugging Jooheon’s hand forward. “Now where was I? Ah! Your love life!” Minhyuk held Jooheon’s hand with both his own now, ensuring that Jooheon couldn’t escape.

Jooheon again cursed himself in thoughts for not heeding his own advice. Why did he have to be friendly with everyone? He wouldn’t die if one person didn’t like him.

“You are a very sensitive person. You fall in love easily, but you’re also very guarded,” Minhyuk continued. Jooheon could only sit there, unsure of what to do to get out of that situation. “Not many relationships in your life, I see a great many friends but not many lovers. I see— oh. What’s this?”

Jooheon blinked, looking at his hand. Was it dirty? He would hide under his bed and never leave his house again if his hand was dirty while having his palm looked at so closely. He’d washed his hands! “What is it?”

“There’s something—” Minhyuk trailed off, leaning forward until his face was almost touching Jooheon’s palm.

“What?” Jooheon repeated his question and leaned in also, trying to see whatever it was Minhyuk was seeing.

“It’s there, I’m certain of it.”

“What is there?” Jooheon insisted and came even closer. “What do you see?”

In a quick motion Jooheon had not been prepared for in the slightest, Minhyuk raised his head, face mere inches from Jooheon, and whispered, “Me.”

Jooheon screeched and jumped back, almost falling off his stool in his haste. Minhyuk was smiling placidly up at him, as if he hadn’t just implied they would be a— _ thing_. In the future. No, no, that was not— Did that just happen?

And did he— did he just try to _ kiss _ him? Or was he imagining things? What if someone saw them? They were in a public place!

Jooheon got up, legs shaking like leaves in a hurricane. “I’m— I’m going now, goodnight!”

“Goodnight, honey,” Minhyuk said sweetly, resting his chin on his hands again and batting his eyelashes at him. “Have sweet dreams tonight.”

Jooheon made a noise of distress in his throat and all but fled the grounds. He was right.

Minhyuk really was a menace.

◦ ◦ ◦

Changkyun’s heart was still pounding by the time he arrived home, the sound of the door closing fueling his anxiety instead of easing his mind. The farther he got from the mansion the heavier his heart became, that voice in his head still screaming at him to go back. It would be impossible by then with the fog, blinding and disorienting, even if he was so inclined to trek all the way back to the moor.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Hyungwon, though.

“Kyun?” Jooheon’s voice came from the bedroom, and Changkyun followed the sound, finding Jooheon already bundled up and looking like he’d been sleeping previous to his arrival. “Thank God, I thought you were arrested or something.”

“You sure look like you were very worried,” Changkyun deadpanned, ridding himself of his cap and tossing it aside.

Jooheon disregarded the comment and sat up, eyes half-closed with remnants of sleep. “I had a rough day, ok?” He blinked and squinted up at Changkyun. “So? How was it?”

Changkyun decided to show him instead of telling him, taking the roll of banknotes from the pocket of his coat and tossing it at Jooheon. Jooheon spluttered with surprise but caught the money, his eyes now fully open.

“You— Kyun, this is—”

“A lot, right?” Changkyun finished his sentence with a grin, taking the locket from his pocket as well before he shrugged off his coat. “I told you it was a good idea.”

“How did you find this much money?”

Changkyun hesitated before answering, already knowing Jooheon would freak out. He felt like had to talk about it, though. “I didn’t _ find it _, exactly. It was more like— given to me.”

Jooheon stared at him, and he could see the gears turning in his brain. Changkyun decided to elaborate before Jooheon scared himself by reaching a wrong conclusion.

“I met the medium,” Changkyun revealed, perhaps a little too abruptly because Jooheon almost fell off his bed upon hearing it.

“You what!?”

“He’s not scary like you thought he would be!” Changkyun quickly said, defending Hyungwon’s character without even realizing he was doing so. “He’s very polite. And witty, too. He’s like— something out of a storybook.”

Jooheon’s expression went from shock to confusion to realization. “Oh no. He put a spell on you. I told you to be careful!”

“He didn’t put a spell on me!” Changkyun said, adding after a pause, “At least I don’t think he did.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Jooheon whined, tossing the money back at Changkyun. He caught it with ease. “What does meeting the medium has to do with anything?”

“Hyungwon,” Changkyun said, suddenly - the first time he spoke the name out loud, and oh, how it rolled off his tongue. “His name is Hyungwon. The medium.”

Jooheon gave him a hard look, one that made Changkyun squirm. “That doesn’t answer the question.”

“He gave me the money.”

“He gave—” Jooheon started but interrupted himself, as if too overcome with concern and disbelief to string two thoughts together. “You have to give this money back.”

“Why?” Changkyun asked, pressing the roll of money and the locket against his own chest protectively. “It’s mine, Hyungwon said I could have it.”

“This will come back to bite you in the ass.”

“He said I could—”

“And you think it matters what he said!? ” Jooheon shouted, thoroughly interrupting him. “That amount of money and you truly believe you don’t owe him anything?”

“He said he was feeling generous and that I could take it.”

“No strings attached?” Jooheon scoffed, shaking his head and pointed at the money in his hands. “Those _ are _ strings, Pinocchio!”

Changkyun had to roll his eyes. Now Jooheon was just being ridiculous. “I’m not a puppet, Jooheon. He’s not manipulating me, if that’s what you think. He didn’t ask me for anything, we didn’t make any plans to meet, he doesn’t know where we live. I’ll probably never see him again.”

Just uttering those words made his heart tighten in his chest, no matter how true - he would likely never meet Hyungwon again.

“Seriously, Kyun, you should go back there and return the money,” Jooheon declared before he laid back down and turned around, back facing Changkyun. “Being indebted to our landlady is better than being indebted to a damn witch.”

“He’s not a witch.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, neither do I,” Changkyun said with a sniff, plopping down on his own bed. “And I’ll use this money however I please, because it’s mine. He gave it to me.”

“Whatever you say, Kyun, just leave me out of it.”

“I will.”

“Good!”

“Great!”

Changkyun made a show of putting the money inside the drawer of his side table, slamming it shut so Jooheon could hear it clearly. Jooheon didn’t even stir, blankets pulled up over his head.

Changkyun, after sticking out his tongue at the lump on the neighboring bed, looked down at the locket still in his hand, the smooth silver and delicate chain. He could go to the pawnbroker in the morning, see how much it was worth - not a fortune, certainly, but quite a lot. Looking at it, though, he couldn’t help but remember Hyungwon, his eyes, his lips, the touch of his hands, the warm cadence of his voice.

He put the locket around his neck and decided it wasn’t going anywhere.

◦ ◦ ◦

The empty wooden box sitting atop his desk made Hyungwon smile - the little mouse found his prize after all.

A strange encounter, that was. He hadn’t expected it to be any other way, but he was also not expecting it to be so— so what? He didn’t even know how to express it. Changkyun’s presence had been like a breath of fresh air in that stifling mansion. The many questions he asked, the confidence he exuded, the bravery with which he’d spoken to him despite his fear of retribution, all of it painted a picture Hyungwon found enthralling.

He wished he hadn’t left.

It was good that he had, though; Hyungwon did not and would not fault anyone for wishing to be as far away from that place as possible.

He felt it when he noticed his presence the night before, knew there was something about Changkyun, something that called to him - a pull, there for whatever reason. Something in the back of his mind, hidden away and forgotten, but what? Hyungwon didn’t know; it was distressing not to know, but trying to understand it was only making his headache worse. Maybe he would figure it out, someday. 

He didn’t turn around when he heard footsteps approach, loud and sharp, footfalls harder than they had to be.

“Why did you do that?”

Hyungwon didn’t have to ask what was Guhn referring to. “His daughter wished to speak, so I let her.”

“You were only being petty and spiteful,” Guhn all but spat the words. “These are the people we should make friends with, not enemies of.”

“No need for the dramatics, dear,” Hyungwon said, dismissing Guhn’s concerns as one bats away a fly, before taking the empty box and replacing it inside the drawer. “I made him a believer. He will be back, as will all the others.”

“You were distracted tonight.” The accusations kept coming. Hyungwon sighed, tired, skull throbbing with a headache. “Our guests might not have noticed, but I did.”

“_Your _ guests. It was your idea to throw a party, as it was your idea I give them a little show,” Hyungwon replied, just as a second set of footsteps, lighter and more careful ones, entered the room. He looked up at the servant girl when she set down a full cup of spearmint tea on the desk, in the space previously occupied by the box. He smiled at her when their eyes met for a moment. “Thank you, Kyla. You can call it a night, I’m sure you and the others are tired.”

“Call it a night!?” Guhn questioned. “What of the cleaning?”

“They can do it in the morning,” Hyungwon finally turned around to face Guhn as he spoke. He was more than ready for this conversation to end, so he could be alone with his thoughts for a second. “Or do you have a reason to have the house spotless in the middle of the night, when we are all asleep and all the guests are gone? Who is it that you wish to impress? The ghosts?”

Guhn didn’t reply, at least not until the servant had left the room.

“You are avoiding the subject,” Guhn said, coming closer to Hyungwon. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”

“Nothing,” he lied through his teeth. “I simply abhor parties, as I’m sure you are aware since you were so keen on disregarding it entirely.”

Guhn scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Who’s being dramatic now?” He gave Hyungwon a hard look before pointing a finger at him. “You will not do it again. No matter how much your pride is needled and prodded, you will _ not _ lash out.”

“They were not paying customers, Charles,” Hyungwon said, addressing Guhn by his first name only to annoy him. It always worked like a charm. “They were here to gawk and to find fodder for their gossip circles. The least that ‘gentleman’ could have done after being so kindly invited to our home was to be respectful to those who own this house, so once he decided to forego his courtesy, I was in my right to forego mine.” He turned around again, pulling back the chair neatly tucked under his desk so he could sit down. “You are free to apologize to him on my behalf if it makes you feel better, but I tell you now that it won’t make a difference; as I said, I made him a believer. Nothing I did hurt your business dealings, so quit your fussing already.”

Guhn said nothing for a long time, during which Hyungwon quietly sipped his tea and tried to will his headache to subside. It was always like that after a session, but this entire night was proving to be a veritable trial - his brief encounter with Changkyun was the only highlight.

“Your performance tonight was subpar, at best,” Guhn said at last.

Hyungwon rolled his eyes. ‘Subpar’. Speaking with the voice of the dead was subpar. Very well.

“Again, as I said: they were not paying customers. They want the full array of special effects and ghostly rappings, they can pay the full price for it, otherwise this is what they will get - the bare minimum.”

“Rationalize it as you want, you _ will _ do better next time. It’s our reputation on the line.”

“Ah, yes,” Hyungwon said with a bitter chuckle, “‘our’ reputation. I’m quite sorry, darling, it slipped my mind completely.”

“Your glibness is unbecoming, but no matter,” Guhn said, and began walking out the study were his footsteps any indication. “Rein in your pride and your spite quickly; soon we’ll have a full schedule of sessions with ‘paying customers’ and I will not suffer your loose tongue again.”

“What will you do? Cut it off?” Hyungwon asked with a scoff. “By all means, go ahead. You stand to lose far more than I do.”

Guhn’s response was to slam the door shut on his way out, something that gave Hyungwon a wicked manner of satisfaction. He had to take pleasure in the small things if he wished to remain sane.

Outside the window, the mists had taken over, covering the world in thick fog, giving Hyungwon the impression he was sitting in a castle above clouds. If he closed his eyes and listened closely, sometimes he could hear the mist calling for him. It was hard to ignore that call.

Changkyun was out of the moor and back in the safety of his own home by then; good. He felt as if he was forgetting something about Changkyun, something important. Did he put everything he’d wished to give Changkyun in the box? The money had been there, and the silver locket for pawning as well, and— no, that was everything, he’d meant to add nothing else to Changkyun’s loot. So what then— 

Hyungwon looked away from the window, down at his desk, at his tea. Best to stop thinking about Changkyun, rid his mind of him, at least for the time being. If he could, that is - he didn’t think he would be very successful, but he would try.

They would meet again when the time was right, he knew.

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tl;dr: hyungwon, but reimagined as a tim burton character
> 
> thanks for reading!♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ghostlike91) | [tumblr](https://ghostlike91.tumblr.com/) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ghostlike)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for some violence and lil bit of blood. just a lil bit.
> 
> enjoy!♡

◦

After a few weeks of his return, Kihyun was growing impatient. Money was slowly starting to trickle in, exponentially slower than he had predicted; many of his former buyers had moved on to other ‘importers’, and some had moved away to live in other places, forcing him to seek out new patrons.

And that is what led him to the old mansion on the moor.

If Kihyun thought standing outside that mansion was an uncomfortable experience, he was not prepared for how much worse it was to be inside of it. Or, rather, being inside and in the presence of the owner of that place.

Guhn was— a character, to say the least. He had received Kihyun with smiles and pleasantries, was perfectly polite, but there was something about him that unnerved Kihyun. Something about his eyes.

And also the fact he had spent more time looking over each single firearm Kihyun had brought along with him than all his other clients  _ combined. _

“What is the range of this one?” Guhn asked, rotating a pistol before his eyes.

“Judging from the length of the barrel, I would say it’s medium-range,” Kihyun replied. “If you want long-range, I suggest the rifle.”

“This is a beauty, though. Italian?” Guhn looked over at Kihyun after asking.

Kihyun smiled - out of politeness, of course; the last thing he felt like doing was smiling. “Correct. That is a Lamberti, a popular manufacturer in Italy.”

“Completely functional?”

Kihyun tried not to take it personally - the implication his product didn’t work still stung, though. He could be selling contraband, but he was selling  _ quality _ contraband.

What a prick.

“Yes, it works perfectly,” he said, smile never faltering.  _ For Hoseok _ , he told himself over and over again in his mind.  _ For Hoseok _ .

Kihyun stood there, waiting for Guhn to finish inspecting the pistol. His eyes wandered around, taking in the décor of the room they were in. Kihyun wasn’t exactly a house plan connoisseur, but that room could be a parlor, of sorts - or, rather, it  _ should _ be a parlor, because it was definitely not one. There weren’t armchairs and sofas, no coffee table in sight. Instead, there was a large, round table made of dark, sturdy wood right in the center of the room, over a dozen chairs around it. Behind the table was a fireplace, currently unlit, flowers and candelabra sitting on the mantle. The curtains were open, allowing sunlight to stream in, but they were of dark fabric, a deep burgundy a few shades darker than the wallpaper. It was a dark, stuffy room. It made Kihyun’s discomfort that much more pointed.

Luckily for him, he didn’t have to just stand there and smile for long.

“I will keep this one, then,” Guhn finally decided, leaving the pistol aside. Kihyun’s smile turned more genuine - that was a pricey weapon. “You mentioned a rifle?”

“Yes, right here,” Kihyun said and quickly dug around the trunk full of product he’d brought along, not taking long to find the rifle and offer it to Guhn.

“Oh, marvelous,” Guhn said, appreciative, “I was meaning to buy a new one of these, as shooting season is right around the corner.”

Kihyun opened his mouth to reply, to give his best sales pitch for the rifle - also a pricey weapon - when another man entered the room. Kihyun tried not to gape at the unusual color of his hair, since that would be impolite.

“Ah, Hyungwon,” Guhn said, looking up from the rifle to stare at the newcomer, “how good of you to finally join us.”

“Apologies, I had the worst headache,” Hyungwon said with the tiniest sigh and turned to Kihyun. “You must be Kihyun.”

Kihyun smiled at him, shook his hand when he approached. “Yes, I am.”

“I’m Hyungwon, although you probably guessed it already,” Hyungwon quipped, giving Guhn a sideways glance. “I see he is still gawking at the firearms.”

“I’m not ‘gawking’,” Guhn said, defensive.

Hyungwon pulled himself a chair and sat down, crossing his long legs casually. “I find firearms so crude. Poison seems such a classier, more refined way to kill.” Looking up to Kihyun and smiling, he asked, “Don’t you agree?”

Taken aback as he was by the topic, Kihyun still opened his mouth to reply. Again, he got lucky that Guhn intervened.

“Firearms are not ‘crude’. Manufacturing them is an art, wielding them is a skill.”

“And shooting them is noisy and obnoxious,” Hyungwon said. “Not poison. Poison is quiet. You never see it coming.”

“Oh, a firearm is quick enough that you wouldn’t see it coming either,” Guhn said and, to Kihyun's complete horror and confusion, pointed the rifle he was holding at Hyungwon and pulled the trigger. “Bang,” he said, in the place of the sound of an actual gunshot, as the rifle was - thank heavens - not loaded.

Hyungwon only rolled his eyes, disregarding Guhn’s actions entirely. Kihyun could only look from one to the other.  _ Who the hell were those people? _

And, more importantly,  _ what the hell was wrong with them? _

“I digress,” Hyungwon said, to Kihyun’s relief. The veiled murder topic was starting to get a little out of hand. “Firearms aside, I hear you have other products?”

“Yes!” Kihyun quickly replied, “I have fabrics, chocolate, tea and spices from Asia, spirits…”

“Mm, you had me at chocolate,” Hyungwon said with a happy sigh. “Although the teas piqued my interest as well.”

“You should look at the fabrics instead,” Guhn interjected. “Choose something for your new evening coat.”

Hyungwon’s sigh was much less happy this time around. “I don’t  _ need _ a new evening coat.”

“Yes, you do,” Guhn insisted. “For opening night at the Opera in two weeks.”

“Ah, yes,” Hyungwon said airily. Kihyun decided to busy himself with pulling out the products from his trunk in order to avoid being dragged into whatever conversation was building. “You are correct, I do need a new evening coat, preferably one that says ‘I do not wish to be here, pray do not speak to me’.”

Guhn huffed. “Your recluse attitude stopped being cute ages ago.”

“Spoken exactly like someone who doesn’t suffer from chronic migraines,” Hyungwon answered. Kihyun continued to quietly place his products over the table, set on not taking sides in that discussion. “And these migraines are partially your fault, too. It’s like you  _ want _ my head to explode with the strain of having to handle that much noise.”

“Oh, the drama, so much drama,” Guhn said in a mocking manner; Hyungwon didn’t reply to that, instead turning to Kihyun.

“Are those the teas?”

“Yes, here,” Kihyun promptly said, placing the many tins containing tea leaves before Hyungwon.

Hyungwon explored the many options of tea available, humming appreciatively from time to time. Guhn was still admiring the firearms - Kihyun decided not to think too hard about it. It was creepy enough as it was.

“You have a wonderful selection of white tea,” Hyungwon said after a couple of minutes. “Is this Pai Mu Tan?”

“It is, yes,” Kihyun replied. Good, he was going for the more expensive teas.

“Do you have that cherry blossom tea? The name escapes me right now.”

“Sencha Kyoto? Yes, I do have it.”

“Lovely,” Hyungwon chirped. “I would like to order the Pai Mu Tan, the Sencha and the Pearl Tea, then. A good amount, for the moment. Three flavors.” He blinked up at Kihyun, a small smile playing on his lips. “Everything is better in threes, don’t you think?”

Kihyun felt as if an ice cube had been dropped inside his stomach. It was a simple comment, and yet it felt— heavy. Hyungwon couldn’t know about his relationship with Hoseok and Hyunwoo, or could he? It felt like he was referring to it, though. Like he  _ knew _ .

Kihyun swallowed his shock and forced himself to smile. “Yes, three is a very good number.”

“I figured you’d agree,” Hyungwon’s smile widened as he spoke. Kihyun’s heartbeat spiked. “Now, you’ve mentioned chocolate?”

The relief at the change of subject was difficult to conceal, but Kihyun was good at keeping his stronger emotions hidden - he had to thank Hoseok’s illness for that, as it had forced him to learn how to internalize his panic, his grief. Terrible as it was, it  _ had _ , in a way, helped him become a better salesman. To project calm, to be able to smile under pressure.

At least something good had come from it. Silver linings. Or something.

“Once you’ve had enough of looking at food,” Guhn said after what felt like an eternity, his words directed at Hyungwon, who, so far, had been studying samples of chocolate, “look at the fabrics.”

“You are relentless,” Hyungwon groaned. “I have plenty of evening coats.”

“But you are getting a new one. It’s opening night, you should make a good impression.”

Hyungwon rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He turned to Kihyun. “Show me the darkest fabrics you have. If I must do it, then I would like the color to reflect my mood.”

“And the drama continues,” Guhn mocked again. “I will take the rifle.”

The rest of that meeting went as well as Kihyun could have hoped. Guhn and Hyungwon ordered, other than firearms and tea, several ounces of chocolate, various spices, and considerable lengths of fabrics - after much convincing on Guhn’s part, as Hyungwon was quite stubborn. It reminded Kihyun of Hyunwoo, somehow, always set on his ways no matter how much Kihyun and Hoseok tried to change his mind. He wondered if Hyungwon’s resolve would break under the pleading look of the right pair of eyes - it was usually what worked on Hyunwoo.

As Kihyun finished filling their order form, Guhn suddenly said, “Oh! We haven’t looked at the spirits!”

Hyungwon sighed. “You know I don’t drink spirits.”

“You only talk to them,” Guhn quipped. Hyungwon chuckled through his nose. Kihyun didn’t understand the joke.

Hyungwon seemed to notice such and said to Kihyun, “I am a spirit medium, you see.”

Kihyun blinked, unsure how to react to that information. “Oh.”

“In fact,” Hyungwon continued, “you have been nothing but courteous today, despite my and Mr. Guhn’s constant bickering. I am inclined to offer you a session for free.” His smile again had turned mysterious, eyes sparkling with something that scared Kihyun. “At any point in the future, of course, I don’t believe you have any reason for a séance right now.” In a somber tone, he added, “You will soon, though.”

Kihyun felt bile rising up to his throat, felt the blood curdle in his veins.

“Can you hold back from frightening our guests for once?” Guhn complained. “I suppose it’s best to end our meeting here, before Hyungwon decides to channel the dead for the sake of making a statement.”

“What statement would channeling the dead make?” Hyungwon said with a scoff and got up from his chair. “I will show Kihyun out, then. I would not dare part you from your new firearms so soon into your honeymoon.”

Kihyun barely registered anything they said, his ears ringing with the panic he was trying to suppress. Hyungwon knew. Kihyun had no idea how, but he  _ knew _ . He had never been a believer in the paranormal, found the supernatural to be more of a fancy of imaginative minds than anything else, and yet— he couldn’t explain this. Hyungwon knowing.

He somehow kept his composure as he packed his items back inside the trunk, as he said his farewells to Guhn, as he walked out of the parlor after Hyungwon. If he were to break down, it would be only once he was far away from this place.

As was his luck, though, Hyungwon spoke again when they reached the foyer on their way to the main doors. “I noticed you sell hibiscus tea.”

Kihyun startled, having been too turned into his own mind to pay attention. He cleared his throat as subtly as possible and said, “Yes, I do.”

“Hm,” Hyungwon hummed. “I would advise keeping that tea for yourself. Or, rather, for your lover.”

Kihyun’s steps faltered and he stopped walking entirely, staring at Hyungwon as the blood drained from his face. “What— How do you know that?”

“I know a lot about many things, even when I don’t wish to. A curse, truly. It’s why I have these headaches, which I would gladly do without,” Hyungwon replied, stopping as well and turning back to face Kihyun before continuing in a lower voice. “Hibiscus tea has many medicinal properties. It will do your lover a lot of good, perhaps even give him more time - not much, I’m afraid, but some. Maybe enough.”

Kihyun swallowed hard and took a deep breath, willing himself to get a grip on his feelings, maintain a cool façade. “How much do you know?”

“I know all about it,” Hyungwon said, simple. “There is no need for concern, though - I have nothing to gain from sharing your secrets, especially when your secrets are mirror images to some of my own.”

“I— Thank you,” Kihyun said, uncertain. Hyungwon gave him a close-lipped smile.

He opened the door for Kihyun, bowed his head minutely in a farewell as Kihyun walked past him. “Be careful on your way home. We’ll meet again.”

Kihyun gave him a polite nod of his head and continued on to his carriage, walking as fast as courtesy allowed.

He had to get out of that place for his sanity’s sake. A madhouse, that’s what it was.

◦ ◦ ◦

During the first couple of weeks Jooheon worked at the circus, he’d learned two things: one, elephants poop a  _ lot _ ; and two, Minhyuk really was a menace and should probably be stopped before he hurt himself and others.

Minhyuk wasn’t a violent person, and Jooheon’s fear that he would target him to pick on had proved unfounded; overall, Minhyuk was a very laid back man.

The problem was that ‘laid’ was the operative word.

Jooheon would be pressed to find someone in that circus Minhyuk hadn’t made a pass at, and running into those who had taken Minhyuk up on it wasn’t a rare occurrence. Minhyuk— he went around. Jooheon wouldn’t judge him for it - in fact, Jooheon had many friends who worked as— uhm,  _ circulating harlots _ , and he’d never thought less of them for it. The issue with Minhyuk was his poor judgment and penchant for attention-seeking, which often landed him in some trouble or another.

A lot of people had a bone to pick with Minhyuk.

Jooheon stayed out of it as much as he could; he preferred to stick to the elephant pen, as he enjoyed the company of Barya more than he did his other co-workers, and that helped him not get involved in issues pertaining to Minhyuk or anyone else.

Beyond that, Minhyuk had been— nice. He’d been nice to him. He didn’t stalk Jooheon as he’d feared, didn’t make it his life’s mission to tease him. He greeted him whenever they passed each other, sometimes even offered to help him with whatever job he was doing around the circus grounds, even shared his food with him a couple of times. Minhyuk wasn’t a bad person, Jooheon came to realize - he just made a lot of bad choices.

And truth be told, he liked Minhyuk. Minhyuk was funny and friendly, two qualities Jooheon found particularly attractive when it came to people.

Not that he was attracted to Minhyuk. He wasn’t— it wasn’t like that. At all.

That day had been going well. Calm. Too calm, Jooheon thought; calm never lasted very long at the circus. There was always something going on, always one commotion or another - Minhyuk wasn’t the only one who got in trouble, after all. Jooheon was on his lunch break, chewing his sandwich suspiciously - as much as one can eat a sandwich suspiciously - as he looked around the grounds. There weren’t that many people around at the time, since most of the workers left the grounds entirely to go buy pre-made meals at the restaurant two streets down, so it was quiet and peaceful where he sat.

_ Too  _ quiet and peaceful.

He’d eaten most of his sandwich when his suspicions proved right - there was a loud  _ bang _ of something large hitting a wooden structure, a clatter of something falling, followed by what sounded like two people having an argument.

Jooheon sighed, internally cursing his helpful nature, and rushed over to where the noise was coming from, miraculously not choking as he finished chewing and swallowing his sandwich mid-run. Upon rounding a corner around a cluster of tents he was faced with the image of Minhyuk— getting punched in the face.

Jooheon felt panic build up inside him, felt the adrenaline rushing through his bloodstream; he wasn’t a violent person, on the contrary, he disliked violence with a passion, and his initial instinct told him to run away as far as he could go. The look on Minhyuk’s face stopped him - he looked terrified, and Jooheon could see a bit of blood running from his nose. He should run and leave Minhyuk to deal with his own bullshit. It wasn’t any of his business— 

Oh, who was he kidding?

“Hey!” he shouted, trying to sound tougher than he actually was - which was, not tough at all. He bruised like a peach. “Hey, cut it out!”

He hurried closer instead of away, thinking of nothing but his desire to defend Minhyuk, no consideration for what would happen to him if he did. And, yes, he regretted that choice fairly quickly.

It was only after he had put himself between the strange man and Minhyuk that Jooheon realized just how  _ huge _ the guy was. He was built like a brick wall, over a head taller than himself. And he was angry. Very angry. 

Well. He couldn’t back down after going all the way there, could he? What of his reputation?

He hoped the guy didn’t look down to his legs, because they were shaking like gelatin. That would be very embarrassing.

“Buzz off,” the man said, pushing Jooheon aside with an ease that could be comical - Jooheon could only find it terrifying. “This doesn’t concern you!”

He staggered sideways, only keeping himself upright because Minhyuk held onto him, his arm hooking itself around his waist to keep him from toppling over.

“Don’t touch him!” Minhyuk was shouting at the guy, which was certainly an odd turn of events - Jooheon was the one supposed to defend  _ him _ , not the other way around. “Your problem is with me, not him!”

Shameful.

The man grabbed Minhyuk by the collar and yanked him forward, Jooheon caught between them, feeling like he was stuck inside a tiny barrel that had been pushed down a steep hill. They were shouting at each other, Minhyuk’s bravado a force to behold despite his obvious disadvantage, but Jooheon couldn’t make out what they were saying - it was just noise. Just shouting.

Thinking of a way out was hard, but it wasn’t difficult to conclude that fighting him wouldn’t work - obviously Jooheon would be crushed in a matter of seconds and all that would be left behind would be a pile of steaming goo on the floor. No, if he wanted to help Minhyuk, then he would have to use his brain.

“Stop!” Jooheon shouted, grabbing Minhyuk by the arm and pulling him to stand behind himself, trying to remove the man’s hand from his collar at the same time. “Someone called the police, you two will get in trouble if you don’t cut it out right now!”

“Dammit,” the man growled, jerked forward as if he wanted to jump Minhyuk again; Jooheon’s bluff seemed to work, though, for he groaned instead and pointed a finger at Jooheon’s face. “Tell your buddy to stay the hell away from my wife!”

“I don’t even know who your wife is!” Minhyuk said from behind him, and the man turned to him with renewed fire in his eyes.

“The police are coming!” Jooheon repeated, louder and a little on the high-pitched side. “It’s not worth getting arrested over this!”

The man apparently agreed with that statement, because, after spitting on the ground at their feet - gross - he turned around and hurried away. Jooheon was shaking, still standing in front of Minhyuk, watching as the man made his exit, soon disappearing from view entirely.

It was a wonder Jooheon couldn’t hear his bones rattling with how hard he was trembling.

“I actually do know who his wife is,” Minhyuk suddenly said from behind him, hands latching onto the back of Jooheon’s shirt. “Great tits. Bit of a butterface, though.”

Jooheon closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself.

Maybe Minhyuk deserved to be punched in the face after all.

He turned around to look at Minhyuk and immediately hissed at the sight of the cut on his lower lip, open and bleeding, as well as the blood running out one of Minhyuk’s nostrils, the various scrapes on his cheek.

“What?” Minhyuk asked. “Something on my face?” He tried to smile, but the action caused him to pull his cut open even more and he grimaced instead. Jooheon sighed, already tired.

What a handful.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Jooheon took Minhyuk by the shoulder with one hand and began stirring him towards the back of the circus grounds, where Jooheon spent most of his time and, thus, was more familiar with. Minhyuk didn’t complain, simply let Jooheon guide him.

Of course, halfway there Minhyuk began leaning on Jooheon and justifying it by saying he’d been punched in the stomach too and walking was difficult. Jooheon had a sneaking suspicion that was a big fat lie, but since he couldn’t prove it, he just let Minhyuk do whatever he wanted. He figured it would be faster if he didn’t try to argue.

Minhyuk took advantage of that, because  _ of course _ he did. He snuggled up against Jooheon’s side, wrapped his arms around him, laid his head on his shoulder. Jooheon pressed his lips together, trying to convince himself that it didn’t feel as comfy as it did.

Jooheon only stopped walking when he reached the tap he used to fill the buckets to clean the animal pens, pushing Minhyuk down to sit on a nearby crate while he filled a clean bucket with water. He could feel Minhyuk’s eyes on him while he busied himself with the bucket; he tried to ignore it the best way he could, but Minhyuk’s presence was strong, almost overpowering.

What Jooheon found odd, though, was that Minhyuk hadn’t said anything for a while - Minhyuk usually didn’t shut up for a second, so going for such a long stretch of time without speaking a word was something Jooheon found concerning. Minhyuk didn’t say a thing as he watched Jooheon fill that bucket, and he didn’t say a thing when Jooheon took a seat on a small wooden stool, nor when he plucked a handkerchief from his breast-pocket and dipped a corner in the water. He also didn’t say a thing when Jooheon began carefully cleaning the blood away from his face, first from the scrapes on his cheek, then the blood that ran out of his nostril - already mostly dry by then - and lastly, from the cut on his lip.

All the while, Minhyuk only stared at him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t make a fuss, didn’t whine about being in pain. It was very disconcerting.

So Jooheon decided to be the one to break the silence.

“Why do you do this?” he asked.

Minhyuk blinked, tilting his head slightly sideways. “Why do I do what?”

Jooheon’s cheeks heated up and he shrugged, keeping his head low as he rinsed the handkerchief in the bucket. “The sleeping around,” he finally muttered.

Minhyuk didn’t answer him for a few seconds, long enough that Jooheon thought he hadn’t heard him or that he wouldn’t reply. Maybe he had offended Minhyuk with his question. Should he apologize?

“I don’t know,” Minhyuk finally answered, easing Jooheon anxious mind. “Or, I do know, but it’s— embarrassing.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Jooheon said, quick, before Minhyuk felt pressured to speak of things he wasn’t comfortable talking about. “I only think you deserve better.”

“You— you do?” Minhyuk sounded entirely stunned.

“I mean… You should treat yourself better, you know?” Jooheon said, scratching the back of his neck, keeping his head low. He could feel Minhyuk staring at him. “Respect yourself. Find someone who will respect you, too.”

“Me?” Minhyuk echoed with a bitter chuckle. “I’m not cut out for it. I already have a bad reputation, I’m not a catch. Who would want me?”

Jooheon gave him a casual shrug, taking his time twisting the excess water from the handkerchief. “You’re not so bad.”

“You’re sweet,” Minhyuk said, voice warm. “You don’t have to try to cheer me up. I’m aware that I'm just a warm hole and I’m used to it. There’s no need for you to concern yourself with the likes of me.”

Jooheon at last decided to be brave and look up to meet Minhyuk’s eyes. He found sadness in them, and he found that they were— very pretty. He hadn’t noticed it before. A lovely shade of brown, like dark chocolate. “I think you’re too hard on yourself.” Jooheon declared as he brought up the handkerchief to wipe the new blood that had pooled in the cut on Minhyuk’s lip. “And I think you’re a lot more than just a— ‘warm hole’.”

Minhyuk allowed Jooheon the time to clean his wound, only speaking once he was done. “How come you’re not married yet? Caring, hardworking, handsome, I don’t understand how there isn’t a mile-long line of ladies after you.”

Jooheon felt himself blushing again and rolled his shoulders to dismiss Minhyuk’s question. And his compliments. “I don’t know.”

Minhyuk’s face suddenly lit up as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Oh my— don’t tell me. You prefer gentlemen?”

Jooheon spluttered, almost falling off his own stool, his face on fire with shame. Minhyuk was staring at him wide-eyed, a huge smile on his face.

“Do I have a chance? May I apply to be Mr. Honey?”

“Mr. Honey?” Jooheon echoed, his voice coming out high-pitched with shock.

“Yes! You’re my Joohoney,” Minhyuk singsonged the nickname, leaning closer to Jooheon. “My honey.”

“I— I’m— Can you not do this?”

“Why?”

“I’m not— not interested in you like that,” Jooheon declared firmly, and Minhyuk’s expression fell. He was staring at him as if Jooheon had just kicked a puppy - he almost took his words back.

“You’re not? But— why?”

Jooheon turned himself bodily towards the bucket of water instead. The bucket couldn’t give him the puppy eyes, so it was already preferable company. “I’m just not.”

There was no sound from Minhyuk for a few moments, until he asked abruptly, “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

Jooheon took a deep breath - where he’d been mortified, he was now getting frustrated. “It’s not that.”

“Do you think I’m disgusting, then? Diseased and all that?”

Minhyuk’s words caused Jooheon to whirl around to face him, expression a mask of bafflement. “What? No!”

“Then why?” Minhyuk demanded, eyes sparkling with something Jooheon couldn’t decipher. He didn’t want to.

He opened and closed his mouth several times, wanting to, but unable to come with a decent enough explanation. Why do you  _ not _ think of someone as a romantic partner? Jooheon was not superficial, he needed—  _ connection _ . He was a romantic. He wasn’t like Minhyuk, who took his pleasure from fleeting liaisons and one night stands, no - he wanted something meaningful. Besides, he barely knew Minhyuk and, while he  _ did _ find him very handsome, going from there to wanting him as a partner was quite a stretch.

But he couldn’t say all that to Minhyuk, not without making a fool of himself or offending Minhyuk in some way.

“Look— You’re very upset right now,” Jooheon finally settled on saying. “Whatever reason you have to be—  _ attracted _ to me, it’ll go away once you’ve cheered up. I’m being nice to you and that’s— that’s influencing your perception.”

Minhyuk scoffed. “You think this is the first time I’ve noticed you’re handsome?”

Jooheon looked down again, avoiding Minhyuk’s eyes. They were always so intense. “Looks aren’t everything.”

“But they open the door for affection,” he argued. “Attraction is the first step, or would you give a second glance to someone you don’t find physically appealing?”

Jooheon frowned at him. “That is a very shallow way of seeing the world.”

“The world is a shallow place.”

“I don’t believe that,” Jooheon rejected Minhyuk’s words, shaking his head.

Unlike what he was expecting, Minhyuk didn’t try to convince him of his point of view. Instead he smiled, a sad quirk of the corners of his mouth. Something about the way Minhyuk was looking at him made him feel strange, stomach turning into knots. 

“You’re too sweet, my honey,” Minhyuk said, his voice low compared to how high it usually was. “I hope you never let the world change you.”

Jooheon blushed and ducked his head, smiling awkwardly at the ground as if that would make him seem less flustered. “What are you even saying—”

“Jooheon,” Minhyuk called before Jooheon could finish his question, grabbing his hand before he could think to move away. “I— Thank you. For helping me. I know I’ve done nothing to deserve your kindness, but— it means so much to me. I couldn’t possibly explain how much.”

That outburst of sincerity only made Jooheon even more flustered, and his only response was stammering out, “It was nothing.”

“It was everything,” Minhyuk corrected him, holding his hand tight and staring at him with shiny eyes. “Nobody ever defended me like that before, and I’m— I don’t even know what to say, I’m repeating myself, but I’m just so thankful.”

Jooheon got more and more overwhelmed as Minhyuk spoke, and he pulled his hand back abruptly and got up from his stool. He’d had enough already - he helped Minhyuk, cleaned up his wounds, that was already a hundred steps further from the call of duty, as far as he was concerned.

“I— I just did what I thought was right, it’s fine,” Jooheon said.

“But—”

“Here,” Jooheon said, pushing the handkerchief into Minhyuk’s hands, “you can finish on your own I have to— I have to feed the monkeys now, excuse me.”

And like most interactions Jooheon had ever had with Minhyuk, that one, too, ended with him running away.

◦ ◦ ◦

Opening night at the Opera, or, as Changkyun preferred to call it, easy pickings.

This was the type of happening he found profitable - the rich and powerful were too busy out-impressing each other to pay attention to the likes of him, which gave him the perfect opportunity to do away with their jewelry. He hadn’t been there even an hour and already his pockets were filled with valuables; rings, bracelets, brooches, coins. In fact, he could already call it a night if he so desired.

Ease and profit aside, though, Changkyun would give anything to be at the mansion again instead.

It had been a little over a month since the first (and last) time he saw Hyungwon, and he’d been plagued by memories of that encounter ever since. Asleep, awake, all he had to do was close his eyes to be reminded of those eyes, those lips, that voice. Sometimes he could even sniff his scent of flowers and honey in the air as if he’d just walked by. The locket was a constant companion, a heavy weight around his neck, ever present. He thought that fixation would fade with time, but every day he found it harder and harder to resist the urge to run all the way back to the moor just to get a glimpse of him.

Jooheon was already sick and tired of his endless sighing, more and more convinced Changkyun had been bewitched by Hyungwon - he was starting to consider that possibility, too.

It was thoroughly unlike him; he’d had a couple of relationships before, and both of them had been— lackluster, to say the least. The first, a woman, his very first brush with romantic affairs, and how he learned that he was not particularly interested in women. Then a few years later, a man whose name he could not even recall, an obvious statement to his inability to form a connection. He’d never been in love, never cared to be in love. He never even came close to feeling anything other than physical attraction towards someone, and yet there he was, going mad with longing for a man he met only once for five minutes.

It was like meeting Hyungwon had awakened something inside him. A hunger. A need of such proportions he could not find the proper words to describe its magnitude, as if there was a ravenous beast inside him that would only be satisfied by Hyungwon’s presence.

Changkyun looked around from where he stood, half-hiding in the shadows at the mouth of an alleyway. The opera would start soon, judging from the flurry of activity in front of the theater; everyone was rushing inside, a parade of expensive fashion and futility. Yet Changkyun continued to watch, hoping he would catch a glimpse of pearl-white hair in that crowd of overdressed snobs.

Like it or not, Hyungwon was an overdressed snob too.

His heart quickened in his chest when, for only a split second, he spotted a mop of moonlight-colored hair on the other side of the crowd. Changkyun held his breath, rushed from his hiding spot to try and see better, but no use - if Hyungwon was there, he’d gone inside already.

He would not be dissuaded, though. He returned to his spot and decided to wait for the performance to be over - if Hyungwon was in there, he would have to get out at some point. Changkyun didn’t have anywhere to be, no urgent business to see to, so he could loiter about for the next— however long an opera lasted. Three hours?

The amount of people outside thinned, bit by bit, until Changkyun was the only one left in front of the theater. If he listened intently enough he could hear the faint sounds of an orchestra far beyond, the performance officially started.

Whatever luck he thought he had, it had been gone for a while - only after a few minutes of standing there, twenty or so, a heavy downpour of rain began to fall, so thick it had Changkyun drenched in seconds. He cursed and went to seek shelter under the marquee, closing his coat around himself to keep warm. What a stupid idea that was - he should go home. He should go home and forget that entire plan.

The need to see Hyungwon again was stronger, though - he just had to see him, only for a second, only to validate his own strange experience at that mansion, something he still wasn’t sure had been a dream or not. His debate on whether or not to leave kept him there, huddled under the marquee, the clock ticking away. He had no idea how long he stood there, bouncing back and forth between going home and staying put, when he heard a noise coming from the alleyway next to the theater.

Changkyun startled, a quiet gasp leaving his lips - it sounded like a door slamming shut. He inched closer to the alley, heartbeat pounding on his eardrums, and peeked around the corner to see what had caused that noise. His heartbeat silenced immediately.

Again, like a vision, there was Hyungwon, just standing there as if come out of thin air. Changkyun took in the sight, from his all-black outfit to the unruly moon-kissed hair to his current stance - he had his head bowed, a hand over his forehead. Changkyun was instantly filled with concern, and without wasting another second he left his dry refuge under the marquee to brave the rain and walk over to Hyungwon.

If his footsteps gave him away or if Hyungwon sensed his presence, he would likely never know; all he knew was that, when he was a short distance away, Hyungwon turned his head minutely at him and smiled.

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite mouse.”

Changkyun came to a stop next to Hyungwon, under the narrow awning above that side door - a sign next to it read in bold letters ‘STAFF ONLY’. Hyungwon was definitely not staff.

“Are you alright?” was the first thing Changkyun said.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Hyungwon replied, lowering the hand that had been on his forehead and stepping back so he was fully covered by the awning, protected from the rain. “A headache, nothing more.”

Changkyun hummed, wishing there was something else he could do or say, but it wasn’t like he could will away a headache with good intentions. He followed Hyungwon’s action and pressed himself to the wall to escape the rain, although it made no difference at that point - he was soaking wet.

“Aren’t you missing the performance?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“I’ve seen this particular opera before,” Hyungwon informed. “I’m sure they won’t make any changes to the script, so it’s alright if I miss some of it.”

Changkyun arched an eyebrow. “If you’ve seen it before, why are you here to see it again? Is it that good?”

Hyungwon chuckled at the question. “It’s a fine opera, certainly, but I’m only here because Guhn dragged me along.” The mention of Guhn had that strange jealousy rearing its ugly head in Changkyun’s insides. “I had no wish to be here. I dislike— loud. Operas are very loud. The performers’ voices sometimes reach a pitch so high it feels as if my head will split open, and that paired with the acoustics inside a theater make it very uncomfortable for me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Changkyun replied. “I’ve never seen an opera.”

“Is that so?” Hyungwon asked, smiling down at him. “I will have to take you to one, someday. Of course, I’ll have to wear ear-mufflers, but the discomfort would be worth it.”

That made Changkyun laugh. “Like I would ever be allowed inside a theater.”

“You’d be allowed anywhere. You’d be with me.”

For some reason, the answer had Changkyun’s mouth feeling desert-dry. He could only stare up at Hyungwon, at that face that had been haunting his dreams. The implications of those words— he didn’t want to look at them too closely, didn’t want to build expectations. He lowered his eyes, deciding that it was safer to stare at the single pearl pin sitting in the middle of the black satin ascot around Hyungwon’s neck. Or maybe not - the pearl’s color was too close to the color of his hair, reminded him too much of how he wanted to run his fingers through it.

He looked down at the ground instead.

“I— I don’t think I’ve thanked you,” Changkyun muttered, “for helping me that night.”

“You are most welcome,” Hyungwon said. “I trust that amount of money was enough to settle all your debts?”

“I won’t even ask how you know I had debts,” Changkyun said, playful, “but yes, it was more than enough.”

“Good, I was worried it wouldn’t be.” 

Changkyun, distracted, flinched when Hyungwon reached up with one hand, pulled his collar slightly to the side to see the necklace he was wearing. Hyungwon smiled to himself just as he retracted his hand.

“You didn’t sell the locket.”

Changkyun touched the chain around his neck with his fingertips instinctively, ducking his head to hide the blush on his cheeks. “Y-yeah. It felt right to keep it as a memento.”

“I see,” Hyungwon said, accepting Changkyun’s words without questioning them. “If I’d known you wanted a memento, I would have chosen something a little less simple.” Changkyun risked a glance up, but Hyungwon wasn’t looking at him, rather at the pavement, watching the rain hit the stones. “This was the only piece of jewelry I could find that didn’t have any discernible features, to make it easier for you to sell it without raising suspicions regarding its origin.”

Changkyun gaped at him. “You— You thought that far? Why would you be so careful? I’m just a thief.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, little mouse,” Hyungwon said and looked over at him. Changkyun wanted to believe there was warmth in his expression, that it wasn’t just wishful thinking. “You’re more than just a thief.”

Changkyun rolled his shoulders, dismissing the compliment, and looked away; if he kept looking at Hyungwon his heart would give out. “I suppose you could have at least put a picture inside the locket, then.”

Hyungwon chuckled, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. Changkyun caught himself staring again. Moth to flame. “A picture? Of me? Why on earth would you want that?” He shook his head as if in disbelief. “I’m afraid I could not have done so either way, there is no picture of me to be had.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“No camera was ever able to photograph me,” Hyungwon replied, his answer making Changkyun that much more curious. “I assume it has to do with all the ghosts. I don’t know enough about photography to be sure, of course, all I know is that my face is always blurry in photographs.”

“That’s a shame,” Changkyun said, not thinking, “a face like yours should be immortalized.”

“Is that so?” Hyungwon asked, and just then Changkyun caught himself; too late now, the words had been spoken - and words can never be unspoken. “I’m flattered that you find my face worthy of such.”

“It’s not like you’ve never seen yourself in a mirror,” Changkyun replied, deciding to just embrace his statements instead of trying to retract them. “In fact, I remember a mirror sitting on your very desk. Surely you are aware of your looks.”

“There is a difference, my little mouse,” Hyungwon said, looking at Changkyun intently, “between my perception of my own self, and how others perceive me. I’m quite happy, in fact, to know that you don’t find me unattractive.”

Changkyun decided to file the fact that Hyungwon called him ‘ _ my _ little mouse’ away in his mind and react to it later - by squealing like a lunatic - in the privacy of his own home. “If I may be so bold, you are by far the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”

Hyungwon blinked, Changkyun’s words obviously taking him by surprise. He looked away, at the ground, a sheepish smile on his lips and a faint blush on his cheeks, and it was so satisfying to see him looking so bashful that Changkyun could weep. “I— Thank you, Changkyun.”

Hyungwon saying his name never failed to make Changkyun’s head spin. Ridiculous, he knew. Hyungwon was still a stranger; no matter how attractive, Changkyun had never felt so strongly about someone the way he did for Hyungwon, his entire being thrumming with the need to be around him, to speak to him, to touch him. It made no sense. Absolutely no sense.

“I’m certain this isn’t the first time you’ve heard this kind of compliment,” Changkyun said, trying to break the moment.

“You’re right, it isn’t,” Hyungwon easily confirmed, still sounding shy. “It is, however, the first time  _ you’ve _ said it.”

Changkyun’s heart might as well have stopped; his brain certainly did. What were they even doing, flirting like teenagers in a dark alley in the rain, in public, where anybody could walk in on them, overhear their conversation and make wrong assumptions about their intentions, their - non-existent - relationship?

Madness. It was madness, all of it, complete lunacy.

He didn’t care.

“What is a mouse’s opinion to a cat,” Changkyun mused, fighting every fiber of his being that told him to look up at Hyungwon, resolutely keeping his gaze ahead, at the brick wall before him.

Hyungwon laughed. “Am I to be a cat now?”

“It seems fitting.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “I have no reason to think little of you, though.”

Changkyun chuckled through his nose, unable to contain the comment, “What a very stupid cat you are, then, for you have no reason to think highly of me either.”

“Is it truly stupidity?” Hyungwon asked, turning his body towards Changkyun in a way that he was now leaning sideways against the wall. Changkyun could feel his eyes on him, his skin burning with it. “Were you to see yourself through my eyes, know what I know, you would feel differently.”

Changkyun clicked his tongue and crossed his arms to deflect the attention from how flustered he’d become under that gaze. “But I don’t see through your eyes or know what you know. Your argument is not the strongest.”

“You might as well get used to it,” Hyungwon said, arrogant. “That’s usually the only argument I have or need, and I predict you will be hearing it a lot in the future.”

“You and your predictions,” Changkyun murmured, more to himself than to Hyungwon.

“I like to think I’m doing quite well with my predictions,” he commented airily. “They have certainly benefited you so far, so I assume you don’t have any real issue with our unlikely friendship.”

Changkyun scoffed and looked up at Hyungwon again, mimicking his action of turning his body towards him, leaning sideways on the wall. “You call this a friendship?”

“What else can I call it?” Hyungwon asked. “We are friendly towards each other, are we not?”

“A ‘friendship’ feels like a rather understated way to explain what is happening,” Changkyun said, not blinking as he stared right into Hyungwon’s eyes, “and from that, I take it you knew we would meet again.”

“I did know,” Hyungwon confirmed with ease. “Not when, precisely, but I knew our paths would cross.”

“And your way of explaining all of this is by calling it an ‘unlikely friendship’?” Changkyun’s question came with a hint of a challenge.

Hyungwon rolled his shoulders, a gesture that was almost dismissive. “Not everything has a reason. Sometimes things just… are.”

“So you just accept them?”

“I’m sure you’d be one to try to swim against the current,” Hyungwon said, the corner of his lips twitching as if he was biting back a grin. “Me, I’m fine letting it guide me.”

It made sense, if Changkyun stopped to think about it, and perhaps in another world that would have been enough - it wasn’t. Nothing that was said could explain how Hyungwon knew his name or anything else. Being able to pick up on someone’s mood was one thing, another thing altogether was to be able to give accurate information about them; if Changkyun asked Hyungwon if he knew when his birthday was, he was certain Hyungwon would get it right. If he asked if he knew what he had for lunch three weeks ago, Hyungwon would likely get that right as well.

It defied comprehension. It defied any logical explanation, went beyond the abilities of any medium or psychic or fortune teller, whether Changkyun believed in those or not.

It bothered him.

“To accept things, I need to understand them first,” Changkyun declared.

He watched the tip of Hyungwon’s tongue darting out to wet his lips, eyes avoiding his when he spoke almost as if— as if he was suddenly feeling shy. “I’m afraid the only explanation I have is rather silly. It will sound cliché or like a romantic fancy of mine, but—” Hyungwon stopped, chuckled to himself, shook his head. “No, I won’t say it.”

“Please,” Changkyun said, barely holding back from reaching out and taking his hand, “say it. Whatever it is, I want to hear it.”

Hyungwon gave him a dubious side glance before his eyes flitted away again. His lips parted to speak but he hesitated, a quiet breath escaping them before the words followed, barely audible.

“It feels as if my heart recognizes yours.”

The breath was stolen from Changkyun’s very lungs, Hyungwon’s words resonating within him - he felt like that, too. Like there was a force, unseen but powerful, pushing him towards Hyungwon, telling him ‘ _ that’s where you belong’ _ .

No sense. Nothing made sense.

Changkyun wanted to lean in, invade Hyungwon’s personal space, but somehow managed to keep the urge contained - there was something about being there with Hyungwon, in that secluded alleyway in the low light, squeezed under a narrow awning in a downpour of rain, something that made him feel as if they were the only people in the world, surrounded by a bubble that kept them separate from reality.

He was starting to lose his grip on it, reality; staring at Hyungwon’s lips certainly didn’t help matters.

“What are you?” the words came out before he could filter them through common sense, the murmur hanging in the space between them during the seconds Hyungwon took to reply.

When he did, it was in a whisper just as his. “I’m the same as you.”

That made Changkyun laugh. “That makes no sense. You are so extraordinarily inhuman I could believe you a ghost yourself.”

“By all means, explain my solidity if I truly am a ghost,” Hyungwon said, extending his arm forward in an invitation for Changkyun to touch him. When he didn’t, Hyungwon reached out further to encourage him. “Go on.”

“We’ve touched before, if you’ve forgotten,” Changkyun reminded him with a dismissive huff, but still gave in and reached out to take Hyungwon’s hand, so pale in contrast with the black lace of his undershirt, peeking from under his coat sleeve. Solid, but also so soft, so warm, nothing like he expected a ghost to feel. And yet— “As you’ve said, not everything has an explanation. Sometimes things just are.”

“Very well put,” Hyungwon said, smiling, his eyes lingering on their joined hands. “I’m happy to know my words aren’t falling on uninterested ears.”

“You could be reading a grocery list out loud and I would be interested,” Changkyun revealed, and he felt like he should feel embarrassed about it, about his honesty, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be. Somehow, speaking to Hyungwon felt easy, as if he could tell him anything, reveal his deepest, darkest thoughts, and Hyungwon would understand. Would not judge him, would not think less of him.

“I certainly hope the content of my musings is more riveting than that of a grocery list, but I’m glad you feel that way,” Hyungwon replied with a chuckle.

Hyungwon raised his head, suddenly, eyes moving behind him, towards the door. Changkyun followed his line of sight.

“What is it?”

“The performance is nearing its end. The final aria has just begun,” Hyungwon declared and sighed; Changkyun could visibly see his dejection, the way his shoulders sagged, how his eyes became melancholic. “It never lasts, does it?” The sudden question had Changkyun staring up at Hyungwon at a loss, but Hyungwon wasn’t looking at him - talking to himself, it seemed. “These attempts to escape. We all have to go back to our cages eventually.”

“You feel trapped?” Changkyun asked, and he wouldn’t have been able to hide his surprise even if he tried. “ _ You _ ? You are rich, you have a mansion, servants, all the comfort you can need.”

Hyungwon chuckled, but it was a sad, desolate sound. “A gilded cage is still a cage.” It was a murmur so soft Changkyun almost didn’t hear it. Then Hyungwon straightened himself, pushed himself off the wall, looking like the unbothered prince he liked to present himself as to the outsider. Somehow, Changkyun could see right through the act now. “You should go, my little mouse. Dry yourself and change into warmer clothes, you’ll get sick if you don’t.”

“I’ll be fine,” Changkyun dismissed his concern, pushing himself off the wall as well.

“Oh? I feel like you want to get sick just so I have to come nurse you back to health,” Hyungwon joked, eyes sparkling with mischief, and Changkyun laughed despite himself.

“No offense, but you look like you’d make a terrible nurse.”

Hyungwon giggled at Changkyun’s jab. “I suppose we’ll find out soon enough, since you insist on being stubborn.”

There was another stretch of silence after his words, the type of silence that hung heavy over them - both of them wishing to speak, but neither saying anything. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want Hyungwon to leave, wanted to remain in that moment forever or just a little longer.

They were still holding hands. Changkyun didn’t want to let go.

“Will I see you again?” the question was asked in a desperate whisper Changkyun would later feel embarrassed about - it wouldn’t do to look so eager, so needy, but at the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Yes.” Hyungwon’s immediate reply eased something in Changkyun’s heart. “You’ll see me much sooner than you think you will.” The hold Hyungwon had on his hand tightened, just enough that Changkyun was able to feel it. “I should go back. Maybe I’ll even make it in time to see Don Giovanni be dragged into hell, that’s the best part of this opera.”

“I’m afraid to ask what this opera is about,” Changkyun joked, and was glad that Hyungwon laughed.

“It’s about a sinful man who refuses to repent for his wrong-doings,” Hyungwon explained, his free hand moving to the handle of the door behind him. “Now go, before I grow more concerned about your health.”

“Fine, but only because you asked so nicely,” Changkyun said, stepping away, feeling Hyungwon’s touch slip away from his. He missed him already. “Goodnight, Hyungwon.”

“Goodnight, Changkyun,” Hyungwon murmured in return and smiled at him sweetly, just before he slid inside the door and disappeared into the theater.

Changkyun ran all the way back home feeling on top of the world.

◦ ◦ ◦

The heavy raindrops hitting the window were a welcome sound to Kihyun, a perfect excuse to tune out his thoughts. There was so much going on in his mind that it felt as if his head would burst with the pressure building rapidly inside his skull. Hoseok’s illness, the lack of money, the search for a new place to live somewhere they could afford without blowing right through their savings, Hyunwoo overworking himself with multiple odd jobs.

And now Hyungwon’s veiled predictions of doom, something that had been haunting the fringes of his mind since that day two weeks ago.

He was so  _ tired _ . Tired of body, tired of mind, tired of heart. Coping with the constant fear, the constant urgency, was exhausting. Having to hide it from Hoseok, even more exhausting.

Hoseok felt guilty enough already, no matter that he had no need to feel guilty of anything; Kihyun would not add to that, not when Hoseok was the one having to face that darkness, the looming specter of death that stood by his bedside every day and night, watching, waiting, ever patient.

Kihyun closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, on the patter of rain on the glass. He couldn’t let himself break. Not yet, not when there were still so many battles to fight.

As if his distress had summoned him, Hoseok came padding from the bedroom, hair mussed on one side where it’d been pressed against the pillow. Kihyun smiled without noticing, endeared by the sight of him.

“What are you doing sitting there in the dark?” he asked, making his way towards the chaise Kihyun had been curled on.

Kihyun shifted on the chaise, opened his arms to invite Hoseok to join him under the blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders. Hoseok didn’t need any more incentive than that, happily shuffling over and plopping down in the space between Kihyun’s legs, back resting on his chest. Kihyun closed his arms around him, making sure the blanket was covering enough of his body before he pressed a kiss to the side of Hoseok’s head.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Kihyun said, hooking his chin over Hoseok’s shoulder. “I thought that, since I was awake anyway, might as well wait for Hyunwoo to come home.”

“I’ll wait with you,” Hoseok said firmly, like the decision had already been made and he’d just needed Kihyun to give him an opening to make the declaration.

“Good, I was starting to get lonely,” he said, tightening his hold on Hoseok. He tried not to focus on how skinny he was getting. “What did you do today?”

“Exciting things,” Hoseok deadpanned, making Kihyun chuckle and poke his tummy in retaliation. “Just the usual. I slept, read a book, worked on the puzzle you got for me—”

“You’re not even halfway done with that.”

“It has  _ two thousand pieces _ ,” Hoseok squeaked.

“Should I get one with less pieces?”

“No! It’s a matter of honor now,” he said, sounding almost offended. Once he settled down from his small outburst, he added, “Please tell me something interesting.”

“Interesting? Very well,” Kihyun replied with a sigh, knowing exactly what he could tell Hoseok. He hadn’t mentioned it before, not even to Hyunwoo, mostly because he had still been reeling over the entire ordeal. “You know that old mansion in the moorland?” Hoseok nodded to confirm. “Two gentlemen moved in. I’ve met them a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh? How did that go?”

“It was—” Kihyun paused as he tried to think of a word that was close to describe his experience. “Bizarre,” he finally said. “They are… so strange. They bickered the entire time. I’m not sure they are fond of each other or if they are secretly plotting to murder one another.”

Hoseok let out an incredulous puff of laughter. “Why would you think that?”

“Other than the fact that one of them literally pointed a rifle at the other one,” Kihyun said, Hoseok looking over his shoulder at him in alarm, “ _ and _ pulled the trigger,” a smirk crossing his face when Hoseok’s jaw dropped, “just the way they speak to each other is odd. There is a familiarity, but there’s also tension. I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Are they like us?” Hoseok asked. “Lovers?”

“I’m not sure if they’re lovers but, even if they are, they’re nothing like us,” Kihyun replied, pressing a loving kiss to Hoseok’s cheek. After a second, he said, “One of them is a medium.”

That piqued Hoseok’s interest. “Really?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“Really. He’s the one who told me hibiscus tea would be good for you.”

“He knows about me?”

Kihyun took a deep breath, mostly to will the dread he felt at the memory of Hyungwon’s predictions to subside. “He does. I have no idea how, but he knows.”

Hoseok frowned as he looked up at him, still and silent for a few moments. Then he shifted, turning his body around so he could face Kihyun, arms snaking around his middle. Kihyun allowed him the time to get comfortable, shifting a bit himself so they were half-laying on the chaise, Hoseok on top of Kihyun, low enough that his chest was resting across Kihyun’s belly.

“You’re worried about something,” Hoseok finally declared.

Kihyun smiled and shook his head, hating himself for lying to Hoseok - what could he say? That the medium had predicted his passing? Absolutely not. “It’s not worry. It was simply a very unnerving experience, one I don’t wish to go through again any time soon.”

“It must have been truly something,” Hoseok said, his hands rubbing up and down on Kihyun’s sides to soothe him. “You’re tense. You never get tense over these kinds of things, not like this. You don’t even believe in the supernatural.”

“It was  _ very _ unnerving,” Kihyun reiterated, running his fingers through Hoseok’s fringe. He wasn’t about to spill all the beans about everything weighing down his heart; best to change the subject. “Your hair’s gotten so long.”

“I think it looks good,” Hoseok said, chin resting on Kihyun’s sternum. “It helps hide my ears, they look huge after all the weight I’ve lost.”

“Your ears are, and have always been, adorable,” Kihyun argued. “But yes, I think your hair looks good like this. It frames your face well, brings out your eyes.”

Hoseok huffed and grumbled something Kihyun couldn’t make out, not once he’d pressed his face to his chest. Kihyun laughed, watching as Hoseok inhaled deeply several times, likely to breathe in Kihyun’s scent; it was both endearing and heartbreaking how Hoseok missed contact like that, of being near him and Hyunwoo. He indulged him, letting Hoseok do as he pleased while Kihyun simply continued to run his fingers through his hair, scratch his scalp, massage the back of his neck.

Without warning, Hoseok shoved his hands under Kihyun’s shirt, causing him to hiss when his cold fingers touched his warm skin. Hoseok giggled at his reaction; Kihyun knocked him lightly on the forehead with his knuckles in retribution.

“At least warn me next time.”

“What’s the fun in that?” Hoseok said, still laughing, and pressed a kiss to Kihyun’s chest, just under his collarbone, the stretch of skin not covered by the loose shirt he was wearing. His laughter died down quickly, though, and in a gloomy tone he whispered, “I miss you.”

“I’m right here, bunny,” Kihyun replied, but Hoseok immediately shook his head.

“No, not like that,” he said. “I mean— I miss kissing you. I miss touching you, I miss being touched by you. You and Woo, I miss you so bad.”

“Hoseok—”

“I feel jealous sometimes,” he revealed, uncertain, as if speaking the words out loud shamed him, “seeing you and Hyunwoo kiss.” He sniffled, eyes filling up with tears; Kihyun’s heart broke. “I’m awful. I’m an awful person and an awful lover, I’m sorry, pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“No, none of that,” Kihyun said, holding him tight against his chest, pressing a long kiss to the top of his head. “It’s natural to feel like that, it doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“I’m sorry, Ki,” Hoseok said, voice frail around the edges, “you have so much to worry about already, I shouldn’t be putting this on you.”

“Hush now,” Kihyun said, pushing himself up to a sitting position so he could comfort Hoseok properly. He gathered him in his arms, hand cradling the back of his head, keeping it on his shoulder. “It’s been hard on all of us. If we couldn’t share the weight with each other, we’d all crack under the strain.”

What a hypocrite he was, Kihyun immediately thought - hiding his problems and concerns from Hoseok to then turn around and give him a speech about ‘sharing burdens’.

Hoseok needed to hear it, though. The less pain Hoseok had to endure, the better.

“You should send me away,” Hoseok said, pulling back from Kihyun’s embrace to stare at him in the eyes. “You should send me to a sanatorium, stop risking yourselves—”

“Stop,” Kihyun said firmly, shaking his head. “You’re not going anywhere. You go where we go, there is no other option.”

“Ki—”

“ _ Stop it _ ,” he ordered, cupping Hoseok’s face with both his hands. “We stick together, no matter what.” Kihyun paused to breathe, work himself down, before he continued with a little more composure. “People recover from consumption every day. You’ll recover too, neither Hyunwoo or I will stop until we find a way to heal you. You can’t give up now.”

“I’m not giving up,” Hoseok argued, but it was weak. “I know you two want to take care of me, but I’m trying to take care of you too. I’m  _ contagious _ . You are both putting yourselves at risk, and what’s the point of me getting better if one of you gets sick in my stead!?”

“Sending you away is not the answer!” Kihyun snapped, working himself up all over again. For the second time, he took a deep breath to calm down. “I understand your concern, and I agree - Hyunwoo or I could get sick, maybe even both of us. There has to be a better way than shipping you off somewhere, though.”

Hoseok sighed, shoulders sagging as all the fight bled out of him. He wiped a stray tear with the back of his hand and, looking down at the ground, said, “I think… Maybe we should stop sharing the same bed.”

“But, bunny— you hate sleeping alone.”

“Better to sleep alone than be responsible for you and Woo getting infected. I don’t know how I’d live with myself.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault,” Kihyun said, taking Hoseok’s hands in his. “We know the risks.”

“It doesn’t matter if you know the risks or not, what matters is that they exist,” Hoseok said urgently, and squeezed Kihyun’s hands against his chest. “Please, Ki. It’s a small thing and it would ease my mind.”

Kihyun inhaled a long breath of air, exhaled slowly. “Alright,” he said at last, “when Hyunwoo comes home we can all talk about it, figure it out.”

“Thank you,” Hoseok whispered and pressed a kiss to the knuckles of one of Kihyun’s hands, “thank you, thank you.”

Kihyun forced himself to laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “You sound as if you dislike sleeping next to us.”

Hoseok laughed, the sound coming out wet, his eyes still glistening with tears, and he shook his head. “Never. That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“I’m just teasing you, love,” Kihyun said, freeing his hands from Hoseok’s grip to wipe away the tears that managed to escape with his thumbs, gentle - only gentleness for Hoseok. “Deep breaths.”

Hoseok did as Kihyun suggested and inhaled deeply, for a long time, before he exhaled again. Kihyun smiled at him, encouraging, as he breathed in again, and once Hoseok had calmed down enough, Kihyun pulled him back into his arms, lowered himself back so he was reclining on the chaise, Hoseok snuggling up on top of him as they were before.

They were quiet then, the rain outside the only sounds in the room. Kihyun closed his eyes, willed himself to stop thinking, stop worrying for a second, and just enjoy the solid weight of Hoseok on top of him, the warmth of his body, the lavender scent of his hair, the rhythm of his breathing. Moments of silence like that always made it easier to pretend everything was alright. It was just him and Hoseok, snuggling on a chaise during a rainy night, waiting for Hyunwoo to come home from whatever job he had found to perform that evening.

They were close to dozing off, comfortable in each other’s arms, when the sound of the front door opening broke the quiet. Hoseok raised his head from Kihyun’s chest, while Kihyun simply turned towards the sound.

Hyunwoo was tiptoeing in, still unaware of their presence in the living room so dark it was, but once he turned around after locking the door and was faced with both Kihyun and Hoseok watching him, he— froze. Kihyun frowned, finding that reaction strange.

It was less than a second, something so small it could have gone by unnoticed, but Kihyun had always been observant and he knew his lovers well. Hyunwoo was hiding something.

Without wanting to alarm Hoseok, Kihyun simply said, “Welcome back, dearest.”

Hyunwoo had recovered from his brief surprise and stepped closer to where they were. “What are you two doing here? You should be in bed already.”

“We were waiting for you,” Hoseok explained, pushing himself up from the chaise to greet Hyunwoo with a hug.

Kihyun watched their embrace, how Hyunwoo closed his eyes and wrapped his arms tight around Hoseok, face half-burrowed on the crook of his neck. He wasn’t sure if he should smile or cry at the display, at how much love that single action exuded.

Kihyun sat up, but didn’t stand to greet Hyunwoo as Hoseok had done. Instead, he waited for his loves to part before he asked, “How was your night?”

Hyunwoo’s eyes flitted over him briefly, before he looked away again, avoiding direct contact. “It was alright. I’ve made good money.”

“That’s good to hear,” Kihyun replied, staring right at Hyunwoo. He still didn’t meet his gaze.

“Yeah,” Hyunwoo said, one arm still wrapped around Hoseok’s waist. “We can move out soon, I think. Someone told me of a place uptown. We can go take a look at it.”

“Mhm, we can get around to it in the next few days.”

“Can I come too?” Hoseok asked, looking from Hyunwoo to Kihyun expectantly. Kihyun smiled at him, and nodded.

“Yes, you can come.”

Hoseok beamed at him and rushed over to all but tackle Kihyun back down on the chaise. Kihyun allowed himself to laugh, to appreciate that moment of Hoseok being happy, all the while his attention was on Hyunwoo. He watched him walk over to their dining table and pull out a handful of crumpled banknotes from his coat pocket, a few stray coins clattering on the wooden surface.

Hoseok turned around to look at Hyunwoo too upon hearing the noise - judging from the quirk of one of his eyebrows, Hoseok noticed something odd too.

“That looks like a lot of money indeed,” Kihyun commented, knowing Hoseok wouldn’t. “What did you say you were doing tonight, again?”

Hyunwoo hesitated, eyes flickering between Kihyun and Hoseok. “Uh… Just helped carrying crates at the market.”

“Were the crates made of gold?” Hoseok asked, deadpan, and Kihyun would have laughed if he wasn’t so tense. “Carrying crates doesn’t usually pay that well.”

Hyunwoo shrugged, keeping his head - and gaze - low as he fidgeted where he stood. “I just got a lot of tips, is all.”

“People are being very generous these days,” Hoseok continued.

Hyunwoo shrugged again, dismissive, and began walking away towards their bathroom. Escaping. “Yeah, they are. I— I'll go take a bath before bed.”

Neither Kihyun or Hoseok stopped him, the door to the bathroom soon slamming shut behind Hyunwoo. Kihyun sighed, exhaustion catching up to him again after he’d done such a good job keeping it at bay for the last hour or so. Hoseok looked over at him, and he easily met his gaze.

“He’s hiding something, isn’t he?” Hoseok asked in a murmur, likely not to be heard by Hyunwoo in the bathroom.

“Yes, I believe he is,” Kihyun agreed. “Let’s not press him about it for now. Hyunwoo is terrible at keeping secrets, he’ll crack eventually.”

Hoseok frowned. “Aren’t you worried?”

“Very much so,” Kihyun replied, starting to rub soothing circles on Hoseok’s back, “but forcing a confession out of him won’t help. He’ll get defensive and we’ll get into a fight, and we don’t need that.”

Hoseok sighed, nodding slowly as he watched the closed bathroom door, as if he was trying to see through it. “You’re right.”

“Come on, bunny, let’s get you to bed,” Kihyun said and got up, offering a hand to help Hoseok do the same. “Since we’re no longer sharing a bed, I still need to figure out where Hyunwoo and I will sleep.”

Hoseok pouted but accepted the help, following Kihyun to their room. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Kihyun said with a smile, giving Hoseok’s hand a squeeze, “we might not sleep in the same bed anymore, but I still get to tuck you in.”

The smile Hoseok gave him was a tiny, frail thing, but it gave Kihyun hope that things would get better.

◦ ◦ ◦

Hyungwon was right. Hyungwon was, somehow, always right, and while at any other time that would be a matter of fascination to Changkyun, at that particular moment he could only feel bitter about it.

Like Hyungwon had said, Changkyun did get sick.

Unlike he had said, he did not come to nurse him back to health. That liar.

As with any cold, it started with sneezing and coughing, the chills hitting him at the most random moments. He tried drinking a ridiculous amount of medicinal tea to thwart the symptoms, and thought he was doing a good job of it during the first two days.

On the third day, however, came the fever.

Changkyun had always been prone to fevers, but this particular one hit him like a kick to the head. He slipped in and out of consciousness; each time, he awoke feeling more uncomfortable, covered in cold sweat, his clothes always sticking to his body, his hair always sticking to his forehead, with barely any strength to keep his eyelids up. When he let the drowsiness take him, it was to dream of strange, disconnected things. Blurred colors melting into one another, ominous sounds buzzing in his ears, an ever-present feeling of urgency.

And when the dreams cleared, it was always to the sight of Hyungwon walking away into a sea of silver fog and disappearing. Changkyun always tried to chase him, calling out for him endlessly, but he could never reach him - he would just get lost inside the mist, unable to find his way to Hyungwon.

He thought he could hear Jooheon’s voice sometimes, although he could not make out what he was saying. He was probably worried, being the kind-hearted, loving person he was, but Changkyun knew he had to work and couldn’t stay there all day to care for him - his job at the circus, while not paying much, was very important to Jooheon and he didn’t want to lose it.

He let his fever take its course, no other option in sight. In the haze, he thought he felt a cool, gentle touch on his forehead, on his cheeks, holding his hand, fingers running through his hair. He thought he heard a voice, Hyungwon’s, speaking to him, saying soothing words to calm him. He might have been fed something too, something warm, something sweet and citric and herbal; he felt better after drinking that, whatever it had been, though. His dreams after that weren’t scary.

Hyungwon would still make his way into the mist, except when Changkyun called for him, he would stop and wait for him to catch up. He took his hand, smiled at him and, together, they walked into the fog and disappeared from sight.

The next time he opened his eyes his fever had finally dissipated, his head clear for the first time in what felt like weeks. Changkyun blinked, the light in the room faint - early morning or early evening? He wasn’t sure - and pushed himself up with a groan. There was a lingering pain in his head, a dull ache that was more annoying than painful, but otherwise, he felt fine.

Looking around the room, he found an empty chair by his bed, likely used by Jooheon when he was able to stay home and care for him. Jooheon’s bed on the other side of the room was neatly made, though - odd. Jooheon rarely made his bed.

Maybe he hadn’t been the one struck with a fever.

He had just tossed his blankets aside, meaning to get up and bathe - he desperately needed a bath - when the door of the room opened and through came Jooheon.

He sighed with relief when their eyes locked and said, “Thank God, you woke up.”

Changkyun arched an eyebrow at him. “Of course I woke up, it was just a fever. I’ve had those before.”

“I know, I wasn’t worried about the fever,” Jooheon said, expression turning fearful. “I was worried that medium had given you poison or something. And how the hell did he even know where we live?”

Changkyun’s brain halted at that. “Excuse me?”

“What?”

“You— Hyungwon was here?”

Jooheon frowned. “Uh… Yes? Didn’t you see him?”

Changkyun shook his head, jaw hanging open. “No, I was delirious with fever, I thought I imagined—”

“Oh, he was here, he was very much here,” Jooheon reiterated and shuddered. “He came to see you these past three nights.”

Things were making less and less sense. “Three nights? That’s how long it took for my fever to break?”

“You were really out cold, weren’t you?” Jooheon asked, looking at him with some concern. “Maybe the medium did give you something that messed with your head.”

“He didn’t,” Changkyun argued, although he was speaking mostly to himself, “he wouldn’t hurt me.”

“How do you know that?”

Changkyun didn’t know how to explain it any other way. “I just do.”

“You are going mad,” Jooheon said; it didn’t feel like an accusation, though, more like he had resigned himself to whatever was happening with Changkyun and was done fighting a losing battle. “The medium—”

“His name is Hyungwon.”

“ _ Hyungwon _ has put a spell on you, and you don’t even care!” Jooheon concluded his line of thought. “At least tell me you’ll be careful, that your wits didn’t drop off your head  _ completely _ .”

“Jooheon… I’ll be ok. It’s a certainty I can’t hope to explain to you, I can’t make sense of it myself,” Changkyun said, getting up from his bed, stretching his legs for the first time in, according to Jooheon, three days, “all I know is that Hyungwon is not our enemy. I can trust him.” Changkyun stopped in front of the open window, looked outside at the hustle and bustle of the street below. “I’m more myself than I ever was when I’m with him.”

Jooheon stared at him for a moment, struck dumb, to then shake his head and leave the room again. “I’m not standing here listening to your crazy-talk, no sir!”

Changkyun laughed to himself - at least Jooheon’s incredulousness was amusing.

Outside, the light was slowly beginning to fade - which meant it was early evening. He wouldn’t have the time to ride all the way to the moor before the mists rolled in that night.

In the morning, then. He would go in the morning. He had to thank Hyungwon for keeping his word and nursing him back to health, after all. No other ulterior motives behind it. Just being polite.

Maybe he’d believe that eventually if he repeated it to himself enough. 

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ghostlike91) | [tumblr](https://ghostlike91.tumblr.com/) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ghostlike)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for implied abuse!
> 
> (yes, i know it's not friday, but i wanted to test if thursday is a better day to post so. yes.)
> 
> enjoy!♡

◦

Minhyuk was acting strange.

Of course, Minhyuk acting strange wasn’t out of the norm because Minhyuk was a strange person on a daily basis, but it was a different kind of strange. Or— actually, the more Jooheon thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion Minhyuk had been avoiding him.

He didn’t understand why; after the day Minhyuk got into that fight, Jooheon felt as if he should be the one to avoid Minhyuk and not the other way around. In the rare occurrence he bumped into Minhyuk, Minhyuk acted… jumpy. Like an easily frightened animal, his behavior very similar to Jooheon’s own when they first met.

It didn’t make any sense, though - why would their roles have changed so drastically because of what happened? Jooheon didn’t think he said anything weird or offensive to Minhyuk. That is, other than rejecting his advances, but it wasn’t the first time he did so. He’d rejected Minhyuk plenty of times before and Minhyuk had always treated him the same.

And if Jooheon was being completely honest with himself, he sort of missed having Minhyuk around. He had gotten used to his bright, shiny personality and easy smiles, and suddenly those were gone and Jooheon had no idea why. It left a void in his routine: clean Barya’s pen, clean the lion’s pen, dodge the poop the monkeys tried to throw at him, spend some time with Minhyuk. Without Minhyuk, there was nobody to cheer him up after being viciously bullied by those mean monkeys.

So Jooheon did what any common-sense-possessing person would do: since Minhyuk wouldn’t go to him, he went to Minhyuk himself. Not because he needed to see him, no, none of that, just to… check up on him. Make sure he was doing alright.

He found him at his Fortune Teller stall, doing a reading for a young lady, accompanied by another woman who was likely her chaperone maid. Jooheon approached quietly but didn’t get too close in order not to disturb Minhyuk’s business - only close enough to listen.

“Your love life’s been busy,” Minhyuk was saying; from the looks of it, he’d chosen the tarot cards this time, all spread out neatly on the shiny purple cloth of his table, set in a specific pattern. Jooheon had no idea what any of it meant. “This here,” he tapped a card Jooheon couldn’t see with his fingertip, “means there are obstacles in the way, but the obstacles won’t mean a thing if you stay true to the person you love.”

That was sweet, Jooheon thought. Minhyuk could be sweet when he wanted to be.

“It’s a very strong bond you have with this person,” Minhyuk continued. “You’ve been through a lot together. I see here a lot of people would stay in the way of this union,” he tapped another card, “you’ll have to be very careful not to let others destroy this romance.”

Jooheon listened on, the topic moving on to Minhyuk’s more general predictions - lucky numbers, lucky stones, lucky day of the week.

The reading ended soon after that, and Jooheon watched the young lady stand from her chair, her maid helping her up, and with their arms interlocked they left the grounds together. Just then Jooheon approached Minhyuk, who, again, was startled to see him.

“H-honey! Hi!” he exclaimed, eyes slightly wide, slightly wild. “I— uh, how can I help you?”

What a weirdo.

Jooheon shrugged as he came to a stop next to Minhyuk’s stall, eyes hovering over the cards on the table, the colorful images in them. “I was just around.”

“Oh,” Minhyuk said. “Alright.”

Jooheon licked his lips, gone dry since he’d started talking to Minhyuk; he wanted to come up with something to say, but his mind was drawing a blank. It took him several seconds before he finally settled on a topic, one that had been banging on the walls of his mind for a while now.

It was as good a time as any.

“Can I ask you something?”

Minhyuk frowned, suspicious, but said, “Sure.”

“How— how did you know all that?” Jooheon asked, hoping he didn’t sound as stupid as he felt. “About that lady’s future?”

Minhyuk looked up at him for a moment, eyes narrowed in thought, before he broke into a bright smile and motioned to the empty chair across the table. “Bring that chair over here and I’ll tell you.”

Jooheon had a thought that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t willingly be sitting next to Minhyuk for what was building up to be a private conversation - meaning, Minhyuk would likely lean in against him and all that. Physical contact with Minhyuk usually led to some uncomfortable moments.

He was beginning to suspect he was just that dumb, though, because he went and got the chair, placed it next to Minhyuk and sat down. Like an idiot.

There was just something about Minhyuk. Something that, for some ungodly reason, inspired a smidge of trust - enough that Jooheon was willing to put himself through the stiff, awkward conversations that seemed to be a theme between them, because he thought Minhyuk couldn’t be so bad.

He was just lonely. Jooheon didn’t want him to be lonely.

Minhyuk was grinning, all sunshine, when Jooheon settled down next to him. “Alright, you have to promise you won’t tell anyone.”

“I promise,” Jooheon said, pitching his voice low to showcase how willing he was to keep a secret.

“You want to know how I know things, I’ll tell you,” Minhyuk said conspiratorially, leaning in to whisper in Jooheon’s ear. “The secret is… It’s all bullshit.”

Jooheon blinked and turned to stare at Minhyuk. He was so underwhelmed he didn’t even mind the fact their faces were just inches from each other. “All bullshit?”

“Yes!” Minhyuk confirmed with more cheer than he should. “You see, I’m just really good at reading people.”

Jooheon stared at Minhyuk suspiciously, inching back, away from him as he spoke. “How so?”

“To explain that, I have to take you back to the time I worked as a telegram boy.”

Jooheon’s mind felt as if it was being stretched out and then smushed back together, as if it were clay a small child was playing with. “You— worked as a telegram boy.”

“I did!”

Jooheon was well aware of what telegram boys did - and telegrams weren’t all they delivered. It wasn’t that big of a surprise, considering what he knew of Minhyuk and how much he enjoyed, uh—  _ caving to the temptations of the flesh _ , as his grandmother would say. Jooheon shifted in his chair, uncomfortable, a strange stinging sensation in his heart.

“Alright,” Jooheon said slowly, “you worked as a telegram boy. What of it?”

Minhyuk opened his mouth to speak but clamped it shut almost right away, so hard Jooheon could actually hear the sound of his jaw snapping. There was a strange look in his eyes, in the way his face was set, almost as if— as if he was worried about something.

“Before anything, please don’t judge me for it,” Minhyuk said, and it took Jooheon by surprise - since when did Minhyuk care what he thought? “It was a different time and the money was good.”

“Uh— okay. Not judging,” Jooheon said, and he meant it. He had absolutely no reason to judge Minhyuk - first, they were hardly even friends, so Jooheon shouldn’t—  _ wouldn’t _ be concerned about his choices. Second, it’s not like he didn’t already know Minhyuk was promiscuous; doing it for money was at least practical. And third— why would he care? He didn’t. He didn’t care. Who cared? Not him, not Jooheon, no sir.

“Okay. Alright,” Minhyuk said, nodding rapidly and taking a deep breath. Jooheon tried not to wonder too much about why he was acting so strange that day. “Alright, so… I worked as a telegram boy, right?” Jooheon nodded to show Minhyuk he was following. “I had a lot of clients. More than I could count. Don’t judge me.”

“I’m still not judging you.”

“Just checking,” he said and cleared his throat. “Having that many clients, all of them so very different, with different backgrounds and personalities and— everything, I learned how to read them. The ones who were lonely, the ones who were cheating on their wives, the ones who were absolute asswipes, the ones who were caring, the violent ones.”

Jooheon’s heart dropped. “Violent ones?”

“We’re not going there,” Minhyuk said abruptly, cutting him off. Jooheon was fine with it - he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “What I’m saying is, people have certain tells. They each behave differently, and the people who have similar characteristics create a pattern that I can discern. Does that make sense?”

“Somewhat, yes.”

“Good, so, take that lady that was here just now,” Minhyuk continued, “the first thing I noticed was that she was wearing a ring on her right hand - she’s engaged. The second thing I noticed was her chaperone maid, the way they looked at each other, the way they sat too close - they’re having an affair.”

Jooheon’s face must have looked very funny, because his surprise made Minhyuk giggle. “They are? I didn’t notice!”

“Because you were looking but not seeing,” Minhyuk said wisely. “They’re completely in love with each other.”

Jooheon sighed, looking over at the gates far ahead. Jooheon was nothing if not a hopeless romantic - he believed in true love, for one. Changkyun always made fun of him for it, but even Changkyun was changing his tune after he’d met that medium of his. True love always found a way.

Changkyun could suck it - Jooheon could finally make fun of him for a change.

“That’s really sweet,” he finally declared, unsure what else to say.

“Not as sweet as my honey,” Minhyuk said in a cutesy voice and pinched his cheek.

Jooheon batted his away, leaned as far away from Minhyuk as possible without falling from his chair. “Stop that!” His demand was met with giggles from Minhyuk. He decided to turn the subject back around. “Is that how you knew all those things about me? When you read my hand?”

“Yes!” Minhyuk chirped. “That and some basic knowledge of palmistry.”

“How did you know I was raised by my grandmother?”

“That one was very easy,” Minhyuk said with a cheeky smile. “The way you carry yourself and your manners are very antiquated. Not that that’s a bad thing,” he was quick to add, “but it’s telling.”

Jooheon stared at Minhyuk for a while before asking, “And how did you know my father drank a lot?”

“The way you react when you see older men drinking,” Minhyuk replied. “You flinch and look for the nearest escape route.”

“And how did you know about Changkyun? Or how I didn’t have many relationships?”

“I asked around,” Minhyuk said with a dismissive shrug. “After our first—  _ meeting _ , I was curious about you, and since you’re friends with everyone I set out to do a little investigating.”

“That I was home-schooled?”

“Lucky guess.”

“That I worry about money?”

“Educated guess.”

“Is everything really just you bullshitting your way through it?”

“Yep!” 

Jooheon pouted, not realizing he was doing so. “Oh.”

Minhyuk scooted his chair closer to him, placed a hand on his shoulder. Jooheon tensed, but didn’t try to move away. “What’s wrong, honey? You look sad, was it something I said?”

“No, just—” he trailed off and huffed like a pouty child. “I really thought you were a real psychic.”

“But honey… You’re scared of real psychics,” Minhyuk reminded him, his tone gentle. 

“I know,” Jooheon agreed as Minhyuk began rubbing his back. He tried not to think about the reasons why Minhyuk was being so nice to him - it made him feel strange. “It’s still very impressive,” he said, risking a glance up at Minhyuk, “what you do.”

Minhyuk’s cheeks became rosy and he smiled sheepishly at him. “I— Thank you, Jooheon.”

Jooheon looked away, down at his feet. He was used to keeping his guard up around Minhyuk, never knowing when he would need to defend himself, but— he’d been sitting there next to Minhyuk for a while and he hadn’t done anything to make Jooheon feel like he needed to run. On the contrary, it felt—  _ nice _ .

That was probably a dangerous thing. To think being around Minhyuk felt  _ nice _ .

It did, though. It really did.

Minhyuk smelled pleasant, he also noticed. Like tangerines.

...And now he wanted to eat tangerines.

Jooheon cleared his throat and got up, albeit reluctantly. “I should— should get back to work.”

“Right,” Minhyuk stammered, blinking rapidly as if he’d just woken up from a nap. “Right, work. Yes. I— uhm, thanks for stopping by to talk to me.”

Jooheon frowned, confused with how formal and awkward Minhyuk was sounding all of a sudden, but decided not to comment on it. “Yeah, it was… Fun.”

“Mhm,” Minhyuk hummed, nodding and giving him a close-lipped smile.

Jooheon nodded back, and that too was awkward. Why, why was it awkward? It’s not like they did or said anything strange. Jooheon shook himself and diligently put the chair he’d been sitting on back where he’d found it, on the other side of the table, trying to avoid making eye contact with Minhyuk.

“Uhm… Good luck with your next customers,” Jooheon said. Awkward. So very awkward.

“Y-yeah, good luck with— the monkeys.”

Jooheon laughed, a puff of air more than anything. “I’ll need that.”

He looked up for just a second and found that Minhyuk was staring at him with a strange look in his eyes. Had he said something wrong or—

No. He didn’t care. He was leaving. Yes.

Saying nothing else, Jooheon turned around and rushed away, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach.

◦ ◦ ◦

Changkyun arrived at the mansion early, the sun not yet high in the sky. The moor was quiet in the morning, the vast expanse of green hills beautiful under the sunlight - his first time there during daytime. He was about to see Hyungwon himself under the sun for the first time, too; a confirmation he wasn’t a specter of the night, a vampire or a ghoul, or even a lovely trickster spirit winding him up for a bit of fun.

Like his previous visits, he tied his horse to the shrub, climbed the hill to the mansion from the rear, arrived at the top with a painful stitch in his side. A problem he hadn’t considered, however, was that he would have to find a different entrance - what were the odds of that same window in the reading room being open? Close to zero.

He rounded the mansion carefully, keeping himself low to avoid stepping in front of the windows, watching closely for any opportunity to get inside. He could simply knock on the door, though. He wasn’t there with ill intentions, he was just there to see Hyungwon and thank him for his kindness. A social call, nothing more.

It felt like that would be a huge mistake, however.

Before he even rounded the corner to reach the back of the mansion, Changkyun heard the muffled voice of a man coming from just a few feet ahead. It wasn’t Hyungwon’s, but it was a voice he remembered well - Guhn’s. And he didn’t sound happy.

Changkyun inched closer to where the sound was coming from, stopping next to a closed window covered by a deep burgundy set of curtains that made it impossible for him to see inside.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice!?” Guhn was shouting. “You’ve been late, you’ve been sneaking around, your performance the past three nights was  _ shameful _ , what the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

Changkyun felt his insides turn to ice, blood freezing in his veins. Three nights? As in, the three nights Changkyun was delirious with fever?

“What choice do I have, other than ‘sneak around’? I can’t go anywhere without you breathing down my neck,” Hyungwon’s voice replied.

“And where do you need to be that is so important that you jeopardize the very thing that permits you to live this lavish lifestyle!?” Guhn demanded.

He heard Hyungwon sigh, the sound very clear, indicating he was somewhere close to the window. “Can you lower your voice? I have a—”

“I don’t give a damn!” Guhn’s voice got even louder; Changkyun could imagine his reddened, livid face, down to the spit flying around as he spoke. He wished he was in there to put himself between him and Hyungwon, defend him somehow. “Stop skirting around the subject and answer the question!”

“I will not answer anything!” Hyungwon exclaimed, and that was the highest Changkyun had ever heard him - he didn’t match Guhn’s volume, but the intensity was very similar. “Despite what you seem to believe, you do not own me or my time. I showed up to all the sessions you scheduled - all without my knowledge, because I am apparently not required to know when or where I will be needed so I can be prepared - and I performed the best way I could despite being exhausted, I’ve done my part!”

“Oh please, do not come to me with your unfounded complaints again, I told you specifically to be ready every night this week, that we had a full schedule of séances to attend.”

Hyungwon scoffed. “I am allowed to have a life outside of this dreadful place.”

“Are you truly?” Guhn’s volume finally dropped, his tone taking a derisive quality. “We have a deal, one you seem to be forgetting.”

“Trust me, I never forget about it,” Hyungwon’s voice was hard, his words clipped, as if he was barely containing his emotions. “You won’t let me.”

“That’s right, because  _ you _ work for  _ me _ .”

“I don’t work  _ for _ you, Charles, I work  _ with _ you. It’s a partnership, not slavery,” Hyungwon spat. Changkyun didn’t know Guhn’s first name was Charles. At least he’d learned something new.

“Keep running your smart mouth and I’ll show you the partnership.” The threat in Guhn’s words was very clear, and Changkyun began to steam from where he’d been frozen so far, anger building in his gut. “You need to be put back in your place.”

“And what place is that? Your shelf, alongside your shiny hunting trophies? I do not belong to you.”

“You better change your tune fast, or I will—”

“What? What will you do?” Hyungwon’s voice was louder now. “Complain? It’s all you can do, you’re as good as a yapping lapdog.”

Changkyun wished he had the leisure to fully appreciate Hyungwon’s witty remarks, but alas; there was the sound of heavy footsteps, followed by that of a chair being dragged a short distance across the floor. Changkyun leaned in closer to the window, trying to hear more - the voice that was speaking, Guhn’s, was low and threatening, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. His heart was pounding, his concern for Hyungwon making it hard to breathe. He wanted to jump in, defend him, but something in his mind told him not to - Hyungwon wouldn’t want that, it would make things harder for him later and Changkyun didn’t want to be the reason for Hyungwon to have to go through more situations like that one, with Guhn yelling at him so viciously.

He heard Hyungwon’s voice reply something to Guhn, something he could also not make out, and after that, he only heard footsteps walking away. Changkyun held his breath, trying to listen for anything else - he heard Hyungwon’s voice again, calmer this time, speaking to someone. A woman, from the pitch of the answering voice, and then— silence.

Changkyun leaned closer to the window, ear-first, trying to pick on any sound, anything to indicate if Hyungwon was alright.

The sudden creak of the window being opened startled him, but almost immediately he relaxed when Hyungwon’s voice said, “I know you’re lurking out there, little mouse, might as well come in.”

Changkyun smiled to himself and gladly stepped in front of the window from where he’d been hiding, finding Hyungwon standing there, holding the window open for him and smiling softly. He wasn’t dressed up in his fancy clothes that morning, but rather wearing a simple pair of dark grey trousers and a loose white shirt - yet, he still looked as dazzling as ever, his presence as princely as it always had been.

“I still don’t understand how you are able to know when I’m around,” Changkyun said as he hopped over the ledge and entered the room - the same in which he had seen Hyungwon perform the séance the night of the party, he belatedly realized.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Hyungwon asked, closing the window once Changkyun was inside. “My heart recognizes yours. It has a way of telling me that you’re near.”

“And that doesn’t truly explain anything, does it?” Changkyun shot back, watching Hyungwon turn to face him. He looked— tired. Pale, puffy-eyed, hair falling lifelessly around his face. “Are you alright?” Changkyun asked, wanting to reach out, touch him - he refrained. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but—”

Hyungwon chuckled. “I’m alright. Not the first argument I’ve had with Guhn, certainly not the last.”

Changkyun frowned; the content of the argument felt more pressing than that. “You sounded unhappy.” Hyungwon gave him a shrug in response, and seeing he wouldn’t elaborate, Changkyun pressed on, “If you’re unhappy with him, why don't you leave?”

“There’s a contract involved, legalities, severance terms and whatnot. I won’t bore you with the details,” Hyungwon said with a dismissive gesture of his hand. “Besides, as Milton said in his Paradise Lost, ‘better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven’.”

Changkyun chuckled. “That’s an interesting quote. I like it.”

Hyungwon gave him a close-lipped smile and brought a hand up, touching Changkyun’s forehead with the back of his fingers. “No more fever, I see.”

Hyungwon was obviously trying to change the subject, so Changkyun decided to give him that respite. He would try to get more information out of him at a later time, when Hyungwon wasn’t looking so— frail.

“I had a good nurse,” he replied, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked up at Hyungwon. Hyungwon giggled, his fingers going from his forehead to his cheek in such a way that it felt more like he was looking for an excuse to keep touching him than measuring his temperature. It made Changkyun’s heartbeat quicken.

“It appears so,” he said.

“I— came to thank you, in fact,” Changkyun said at last, timid and quiet, “for caring for me.”

Hyungwon ducked his head, smiled at the ground. “I told you I would.”

As his hand fell away from his face, Changkyun noticed a darker patch of skin on his wrist, just above the bone - a bruise, small, the size of a thumb. Hyungwon seemed to realize it and quickly pulled his sleeve down to cover it.

“Hyungwon—” Changkyun began to ask, but Hyungwon interrupted him before he could finish.

“Come, let’s go upstairs where’s less likely that you’ll be found out,” he said, placing his hand on his back to guide him out of the room.

Changkyun didn’t protest, simply allowed Hyungwon to lead him forward. He still wanted to ask. Had it been Guhn who was responsible for that bruise? It couldn’t have been done in the argument he’d just heard, a bruise wouldn’t bloom so quickly. Was that something that happened often, was it an accident? He wanted to know.

He didn’t think Hyungwon would tell him, though.

Hyungwon took him up the main stairs all the way to his study on the third floor, the place he had sent Changkyun to the last time he was there. Looking around, Changkyun decided that, indeed, the place looked much different in the light of day; less oppressive, somehow. Lighter. Not cozy, he wouldn’t go that far, but it didn’t seem as unbearable to live there, not as it had seemed during his first visit. He made sure to keep close to Hyungwon, in case he had to duck behind him to hide, but there was nobody anywhere - no servants, no Guhn.

“You don’t have servants?” he felt the need to ask.

“We do,” Hyungwon replied. “At this hour we only have the kitchen staff working. The people who clean and tend to the grounds start their day a little later in the morning.”

“Oh,” Changkyun breathed. So Hyungwon was rich enough that he had different servants for different tasks.

That wasn’t overwhelming at all.

They reached Hyungwon’s study in a short time, and Hyungwon ushered him inside with a gesture of his hand before he closed the door behind them. The study, like the rest of the house, looked very different by day, the curtains open to let the sunshine in. It was still a warm, welcoming place, somewhere Changkyun thought he could spend a lot of time in, lounging about and reading. What a thing to imagine: him, lounging and reading without a care in the world. He could have laughed at that mental image if he weren’t a little bitter about it.

Set on changing the direction of his thoughts, Changkyun wandered to the round table where he’d found the tarot cards during his last visit, the same deep purple cloth over it. The deck of cards was stacked neatly this time, instead of spread out as it had been. It didn’t feel like over a month had passed, the memory still vivid in his mind.

Changkyun looked over at Hyungwon, who had moved to stand next to him, his eyes watching him with a curiosity that felt almost scientific. The little mouse prowling freely in the cat’s den, how fascinating would his exploration be.

“When I was here the night of the party,” he began without preamble, “there was a single card sitting face up on the table. The Devil.”

Hyungwon caught on quickly to where Changkyun was going with it and chuckled. “You want to know if that was an attempt at spooking you?”

“Was it?”

“It was not,” Hyungwon said, reaching out to take the deck in his hands, “it was nothing planned on my part. I was reading the cards for myself before the party, in fact, and I left everything as it was when I went downstairs.”

“I see,” Changkyun muttered. “Is The Devil an ill omen?”

“It depends on the context,” Hyungwon replied just as he placed the cards on Changkyun’s hands. “Shuffle.”

Changkyun blinked, looking down at the deck in his hands. “Uh… Why?”

“Humor me,” Hyungwon said with a mysterious little grin. “I want to see what the cards have to say.”

“About what?” Changkyun asked, trying to sound inconvenienced while already doing as Hyungwon had requested and shuffling the deck, careful not to end up ruining the cards.

“About you, of course,” he said, laughter in his voice. “Focus on something that has been on your mind. A problem you wish to solve, or something that has been keeping you up at night. Whatever that has been weighing on your heart lately.”

Changkyun gave Hyungwon a sideways look, but, again, did as he was told and focused on the one thing that had been on his mind, on his heart, lately - Hyungwon himself. Certainly he knew that’s where Changkyun’s thoughts would take him. He had to know.

He knew everything, after all.

After a few seconds, he asked, “How long do I have to shuffle these for?”

“For as long as you think you should.”

“Vague,” Changkyun deadpanned. “Let’s say I’m done, what now?”

“Here,” Hyungwon reached out a hand to receive the deck back, which Changkyun placed carefully atop his palm. He watched as Hyungwon spread them over the table in a neat arch, face down, similar to the way they had been placed when Changkyun was there last. “Now pick a card. Let your intuition choose for you.”

Changkyun looked up at Hyungwon suspiciously. “My intuition?”

“Yes,” Hyungwon confirmed. “Trust me, your intuition is stronger than you believe it to be.” Upon seeing the dubious look on Changkyun’s face, he added, “You might be a skeptic now, but— you won’t be for long.”

Changkyun sighed heavily. “Sometimes I get the feeling you enjoy talking in riddles and half-statements just to confuse me.”

“See? Your intuition is very strong.”

Changkyun couldn’t help but snort at the joke. “Very funny.”

“You laughed,” Hyungwon pointed it out before gesturing towards the cards. “Go on, pick one.”

Changkyun took a deep breath, only to illustrate how burdensome it was to be humoring Hyungwon’s strange tarot curiosity, before he turned to the cards once more. He looked at them over and over again, sometimes reaching out for one but quickly pulling his hand back. Hyungwon laughed the third time it happened and Changkyun turned to him with a big pout.

“What if I choose wrong?”

“There is no wrong choice.”

“What if it’s bad?”

“I’ll protect you.”

Changkyun made a brief whining sound before he turned to the cards again. He took a deep breath, and quickly pulled one of the cards from the spread. He yelped and almost dropped it when he turned it around to see which one it was.

The Devil.

Changkyun turned to Hyungwon wide-eyed, only to find him staring at him with a knowing expression on his face. He blinked once, twice, and asked, “Is this bad?”

“It depends on what you were thinking about,” Hyungwon said, plucking the card from Changkyun’s hand and placing it face-up back on the table. “If I’m right, though, and I usually am, no, it’s not bad.”

“What does it mean?” Changkyun asked, inching closer to Hyungwon subconsciously for safety.

If Hyungwon noticed, he didn’t react to the proximity. “It means you might be feeling trapped in something. Or addicted to it, perhaps.” Hyungwon said, a pensive thought on his face. “It could also mean physical attraction, desire. Unhealthy attachments.”

Changkyun swallowed, looking down at the card on the table again. “It sounds about right.” After thinking for a second, he added, “Although the ‘unhealthy’ part might be up for debate.”

Hyungwon laughed and shook his head, not in disagreement, but with fondness. “Pick another card.”

“One’s not enough?” 

“Let’s go for three,” Hyungwon said, and upon seeing the look of bewilderment in Changkyun’s face, he explained, “I’m very curious.”

“I can tell,” Changkyun muttered under his breath and, as Hyungwon requested, chose another card. It was easier this time around, now that he was sure the cards wouldn’t bite him - only a few seconds of hovering his hand over the cards before he picked one.

The Ace of Cups.

“Oh,” Hyungwon breathed out, and Changkyun was confused to see that his cheeks had pinkened once he looked up at him to ask what was wrong.

“What?”

Hyungwon shook his head, raised a hand to cover his mouth when a small burst of giggles escaped his lips. “It’s— nothing, it’s nothing.”

“Come on, tell me,” Changkyun insisted, tugging on his sleeve a couple of times. “It’s my card, I want to know what it means.”

Hyungwon looked down at him from the corners of his eyes, a timid smile still playing on his lips, but before he could even finish opening his mouth to speak there was a set of knocks on the door. Changkyun jumped, but Hyungwon placed a soothing hand on his shoulder to ease him.

“Come in.”

Changkyun gave Hyungwon a startled look - what if it was Guhn? - but Hyungwon merely smiled at whoever it was that pushed the door open. To Changkyun’s surprise, it was a girl, a servant, and she looked just as surprised to see him there as he did.

“Changkyun, this is Kyla,” Hyungwon introduced, “Kyla, this is Changkyun. He is a secret you’ll have to keep.”

Kyla blinked up at Hyungwon and nodded in acknowledgment to his instruction, glancing over at Changkyun briefly and bowing her head in a way of greeting, before she entered the room and made her way to the desk by the window. There, she left a cup of fragrant tea, and quickly exited the room again, closing the door behind her.

“She’s shy,” Hyungwon stated once Kyla had left, and moved to his desk to take a sip of the tea. “She won’t breathe a word about you to Guhn, so you have no reason to worry.”

“Is it really alright that she saw me?” Changkyun asked, looking from Hyungwon to the door and back again to Hyungwon.

“I wouldn’t willingly put you in a risky situation,” Hyungwon replied, simple, as he lowered the teacup back to its saucer. “Last card.”

Changkyun narrowed his eyes at Hyungwon. “You didn’t explain what the second one meant yet.”

“Oh, is that so?” Hyungwon asked blandly. “Pick the third card anyways.”

“Why won’t you tell me? It’s  _ my _ card,” Changkyun grumbled under his breath before he picked his third card as Hyungwon wanted.

Death.

Changkyun yelped a second time and jumped back, dropping the card on the table as if it had burned him. Hyungwon came over to see what the commotion was about, picking up the card from the table and setting it neatly next to the two previous ones.

He smiled at Changkyun, extended a hand to invite him to come closer to the table again. Changkyun hesitantly took his hand, let Hyungwon guide him.

“It’s a scary-looking card, isn’t it,” he said gently. Every time he used that tone Changkyun felt as if his heart was a bird, flapping its wings. “It doesn’t mean you’re going to die, though.”

Changkyun stared at the card suspiciously, the skeletal rider upon its steed drawn in white against the black backdrop. “It doesn’t?”

“No. It means— change. The end of something, but also a new beginning,” Hyungwon explained. “It could mean loss, depending on the context.”

In the context he’d chosen the cards, Changkyun truly hoped it didn’t mean ‘loss’. He didn’t want to lose Hyungwon. He held his hand tighter and decided to backtrack. “Will you tell me what the second card means now?”

Hyungwon looked down at their joined hands, his expression serene, relaxed. It eased Changkyun’s mind to see that look on his face. “I think you know what it means already.”

Changkyun’s eyes went from Hyungwon’s face to their hands, Hyungwon’s pale against his own; his heart was burning in his chest with longing, with hope. Hyungwon was right - he did know what the card meant, even if it felt too surreal for him to believe it was correct.

With his free hand, Hyungwon tapped each card with the tip of his index finger, in the order Changkyun had chosen them. “Past, present, future.”

“Oh? I thought all of them were future predictions.”

Hyungwon shook his head. “No. I can do a reading for you if you want to know more about your future, though.”

“I’m not sure that would be wise.”

Hyungwon laughed at that and nodded to assent to the statement. “Very well, as you wish.” He let go of Changkyun’s hand then, walked back over to his desk and sat down, almost immediately taking a sip of his tea.

He sure seemed to like his tea.

Changkyun wandered over, trying to look as unassuming as possible, while craning his neck to try to see the contents of that teacup. It was a faint shade of purple.

Hyungwon, of course, noticed. Because  _ of course _ . “It’s lavender tea, if you were wondering.” He placed the cup back down on the saucer. “It helps with my headaches.”

“You have a headache?” Changkyun asked, worry leaking into his voice.

“One thing about me you can be sure of,” Hyungwon said, looking over his shoulder at Changkyun with a mirthless smile on his face, “I always have a headache.”

“Are you sick?” Changkyun’s question came out before he could stop himself.

“No, I’m not sick,” Hyungwon replied, luckily not sounding at all offended. “I do, however, have a head full of ghosts.” He turned forward again, looked out the window. “I can close the door to keep them out, but they’re always pounding, pounding and pounding on it to be let back in.”

Changkyun still was reluctant to believe in ghosts, needed more proof that Hyungwon could really commune with the dead, but if it was true— what a tiring existence that must be. His heart ached for Hyungwon, wishing he could somehow ease the burden from him.

He couldn’t, though.

“I’m sorry,” was all Changkyun could think of to say.

Hyungwon shot him a brief smile before turning to the window again. “It’s alright. It’s just one of my many quirks, I suppose.” He pointed blindly at a glass cabinet next to Changkyun. “Those little containers? All different herbs and medicine for my headaches.”

Changkyun turned to the cabinet and let out a soft gasp at the vast amount of bottles and vials and tin boxes stored in that cabinet, all three shelves of it filled with them. “Do they work?”

“It depends on the day,” Hyungwon said. “There are days when I have to stay inside a dark room in complete silence for hours until I can function. Other days, like today, just tea is enough. Lavender or spearmint. On most days, though, I pair the tea with one of the herbs in that cabinet.”

Changkyun stepped back, away from the cabinet, suddenly feeling inconvenient when all Hyungwon had been was kind to him. Disrupting him like that, when he was in pain— it felt wrong.

“If you want me to leave and let you rest, I—”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Hyungwon said, his voice soft but firm, no doubt in his tone. “I like having you here.”

Truth be told, Changkyun didn’t want to leave either - he’d barely just arrived, he wanted to spend more time with Hyungwon, so hearing that Hyungwon wanted the same eased the strain on his conscience.

“Alright,” Changkyun said quietly, not wanting to be too loud in order not to make Hyungwon’s headache worse, “I suppose I can stay a little longer.”

Hyungwon chuckled at his answer, the sound sweeter than windchimes; it loosened up all the knots in Changkyun’s heart. He watched Hyungwon sip his tea, quietly taking in his side profile, his delicate nose, his small ear, the color of his hair. That day it wasn’t looking fluffy and wavy as usual; it was straighter, looser, messier, like he hadn’t bothered to comb it at all after waking up.

“Go on,” Hyungwon suddenly said, voice light and humorous, startling Changkyun, “ask me the question. I can tell you want to.”

Changkyun hesitated, worried it would cause offense, but since Hyungwon had offered—

“Your hair,” he at last spoke, “is it real?”

Hyungwon laughed. “As real as I am.”

Changkyun huffed through his nose. “I am still undecided about how real you are. In fact, I’m starting to believe you are made of wishes and moonlight.” Those words were met with an unimpressed sideways look from Hyungwon, although Changkyun could tell he was biting back a smile. He digressed. “That is a very unusual color, though.”

Hyungwon nodded briefly, agreeing with that statement. “Mhm, it is. Some say that it turned white from fright after I’ve seen my first ghost.”

“Is that true?”

“Not in the slightest,” Hyungwon said, pausing to take a sip of his tea. “It adds to the mystery, however, so I make no effort to confirm or deny the rumors.”

Changkyun hummed, staring at the back of Hyungwon’s head. “How do I know it isn’t a very realistic wig?”

Hyungwon glanced at him over his shoulder and smiled before turning ahead again. “If you wanted to touch it, all you had to do was ask.”

Changkyun’s brain came to a sudden halt. “Pardon?”

“Come on. You have my permission,” Hyungwon insisted. “Just please bear in mind I have a headache, no yanking.”

“I wouldn’t yank it even if you didn’t have a headache,” Changkyun replied. “What kind of brute do you take me for?”

“Just making sure.”

Changkyun huffed at that, but said nothing else; he merely walked over to Hyungwon, the two steps that kept them apart, to stop right behind his chair. He hesitated for a moment, bringing his hand up but not finding it in himself to touch it. Hyungwon just waited, silently allowing Changkyun to take his time. He didn’t look tense, didn’t look like he had any reservations regarding Changkyun touching his hair, and that was what finally got him to make a move and run his fingers carefully through it. 

The first realization Changkyun came to was that, indeed, Hyungwon’s hair was not fake; his scalp was warm against his skin, the pale strands soft between his fingers. A wig could not feel like that, no matter the quality.

The second thing he noticed was that Hyungwon was very receptive to his touch, his head tipping back to welcome his hand, quietly requesting for him not to stop. Emboldened by this, Changkyun brought his other hand up and began to run his fingers through his hair with more confidence, with both hands. From his hairline all the way to his nape, across the sides by his temples, only enough pressure on his fingertips to massage and not cause him pain, nails scratching softly on occasion.

Hyungwon relaxed on his chair, leaned back towards Changkyun, his head tipped further back. He had his eyes closed, a faint smile on his face - Changkyun noticed a small mole on his bottom lip for the first time as he watched his peaceful expression, so close to him as he was, bathed by the stream of sunlight from the window. He was so beautiful, and Changkyun was so, so weak.

“How is the headache?” he asked quietly after a couple of minutes.

The corners of Hyungwon’s mouth quirked up. “What headache?”

Changkyun chortled, but never stopped his caresses on Hyungwon’s hair. “Liar.”

Hyungwon’s smile grew into a relaxed grin. “You know,” he sighed the words, “I don’t usually like it when people touch my hair. Or, rather, when people touch me in general. This, however… It feels nice.” His grin widened. “Were I a real cat, I would be purring.”

Changkyun would be lying if the words didn’t make the butterflies in his stomach flap their wings wildly.

“What a terrible cat you would be,” Changkyun teased, “first you permit the mouse to enter your home uninvited, then you freely give the mouse your possessions, and now you purr for him.”

“Yes, awful, a shame to all cats,” Hyungwon agreed with a grave tone, playful, opening his eyes to meet Changkyun’s above him. “Or maybe I’m a very patient cat,” he said, voice taking on a lower quality, almost a whisper, while bringing his hands up to Changkyun’s wrists, running them up along his arms, as far as he could reach, “and I’m just biding my time until the mouse is comfortable, so that when I sink my claws in he will have no chance of escaping.”

Changkyun felt the hunger coil in his gut, the need to have Hyungwon overpowering, primal, terrifying. “It will be a happy death.”

“Silly little mouse,” Hyungwon murmured, eyes locked with Changkyun’s as if transfixed.

They were quiet for a moment, lost in each other; Changkyun was idly scratching Hyungwon’s nape, while Hyungwon had his hands resting on Changkyun’s forearms, thumbs drawing lazy circles over his clothes. It felt peaceful. Easy. It felt right.

He could kiss him. He could kiss Hyungwon. All he had to do was lean down, press their lips together.

Maybe he should.

“Have you ever craved something,” Hyungwon suddenly spoke, voice low as if afraid he would break the peace of that moment, “craved something so bad without noticing or knowing what it was, only to realize it when you’ve finally found it?”

Changkyun licked his lips, gone dry with want, and whispered in reply, “Once or twice.”

Hyungwon giggled, smile bright like the afternoon sun shining outside. Changkyun only had to lean down. Hyungwon would taste of lavender tea. He wanted to taste. Taste him.

He let his hands fall from where they have been idling on his hair, down the sides of Hyungwon’s long, pale neck, and further down still over his shoulders, his collarbones. The fabric of his shirt was light, thin; he could feel the warmth of his skin under his palms even with that layer of cloth in the way, much like Hyungwon certainly could feel his touch. Hyungwon’s hands were still placed atop his arms, but he could feel how he was gripping him the slightest bit tighter, anticipating something.

He risked leaning closer, just enough that Hyungwon would be able to notice, to see if he would try to put distance between them; he didn’t. He kept still, looking up at Changkyun over him. They were so close now, close enough Changkyun could feel the tides of Hyungwon’s breath hitting his skin.

One kiss. One brief kiss, it was all he wanted, just one—

The sudden sound of footsteps coming up the stairs startled both of them, Changkyun jumping back, away from Hyungwon, while Hyungwon himself quickly got up from his chair and hurried around it.

“Behind the door,” Hyungwon whispered to him as he moved towards said door; he didn’t have to tell Changkyun twice.

Fast as lightning, Changkyun pressed himself against the wall next to the door, trying to make himself as small as possible, but Hyungwoon shook his head. Changkyun gave him a puzzled look, the footsteps coming closer fast. Hyungwon took his hand and pulled him forward, away from the wall, and whispered next to his ear, “He’ll be able to see you through the seam between the door and the wall, so stay here.” He finished by pushing Changkyun’s shoulder gently to turn him sideways, so Changkyun’s back would be turned to the entrance.

And Hyungwon himself opened the door, before Guhn even had the chance to knock.

“What is it now?” Hyungwon asked immediately, opening the door until it had hit Changkyun’s back. Changkyun noticed Hyungwon had leaned against it, completely blocking Guhn’s view of anything that could be behind that door. “Is there something else you need to yell at me about?”

Guhn’s reply came in a baffled tone, like he, too, wasn’t expecting Hyungwon to open that door so fast. “Why must every conversation be a battlefield with you?”

“Because you’re always the one to throw the first punch, so call it a preemptive defense on my part,” Hyungwon answered. Changkyun held his breath in order not to make any noise.

“Oh, for—” Guhn said; Changkyun could almost hear his eyes rolling. “Do you sit up here all day like a princess in her mighty tower, just coming up with new ways to rile me up?”

“If I’m the princess, I guess that makes you the fire-breathing dragon that guards the tower,” Hyungwon answered back, deadpan; Changkyun had to bite his lips not to burst into a fit of laughter, something Hyungwon noticed right away. He brought his hand up to cover Changkyun’s mouth, muffle any sounds, and leaned a little heavier against the door. “Now what do you want?”

Guhn exhaled a sharp puff of air. “I’ve come all the way here to apologize for my harsh words, but I see you are more interested in keeping things hostile between us.”

“Harsh words?” Hyungwon echoed with a scoff. “That’s a mild way to put it.”

“Hyungwon—”

Changkyun glared at the wall ahead of him; he didn’t like the way Guhn spoke Hyungwon’s name, the way it rolled off his tongue. Where he wanted to laugh seconds ago, now all he wanted to do was growl like a territorial dog. He brought his own hands up, both of them, to hold the hand Hyungwon still had over his mouth - he just wanted to hold onto him, a feeble attempt of keeping Hyungwon’s focus on him. Hyungwon’s fingers twitched with surprise, but he didn’t try to dissuade Changkyun from the action, allowing him to hold his hand there.

Hyungwon was quick to interrupt Guhn. “You came to apologize, so go on, apologize.”

Guhn clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. “I won’t if you don’t plan on accepting my apology.”

Changkyun turned his head slightly, just to be able to see Hyungwon’s face. He had an eyebrow raised, his expression one of quiet disdain. “That’s not how apologies work, which leads me to believe you’re not actually sorry.”

The breath Guhn drew in was audible, enough that Changkyun could count the seconds of his inhale. He could imagine he was asking the heavens for patience - he would too, in his place; Hyungwon certainly knew how to be difficult when he wanted to be. Changkyun stored the information away in his mind, for future reference.

“Very well,” Guhn finally said. “Will you join me for lunch in the gardens today? I’ve asked the cook to make your favorite foods.”

“Goodness, be still my heart, my favorite foods!” Hyungwon exclaimed, mocking, before his tone dropped once more. “All you are doing is making me more suspicious of your intentions. Will the food be poisoned? Have you finally come to your senses and realized that poison is a much more effective weapon than a pistol?”

The turn the conversation took alarmed Changkyun, his eyes widening in terror. Hyungwon, again, sensing his concern, began stroking his cheek with his thumb, soothing him the best way he could without revealing his presence. Changkyun allowed himself to lean into the touch, one of his hands moving up to Hyungwon’s wrist, fingers just barely sliding under his sleeve.

To add to Changkyun’s chagrin, he saw Guhn’s gloved hand reaching out to grip Hyungwon’s jaw, a gesture that he could only interpret as ‘possessive’. “What would I gain from killing my pretty dawn star?”

Hyungwon jerked his head away from the touch, and Guhn, luckily, retreated his hand. “You would gain nothing and lose everything.”

Changkyun was breathing harder, he realized, and forced himself to calm down again before Guhn heard him. Hyungwon was still stroking his cheek with his thumb; he tried focusing on that sensation instead.

“Yes, yes,” Guhn said, clearing his throat before proceeding. “Now, about lunch—”

“I will accept your invitation for lunch today,” Hyungwon quickly interrupted, and Changkyun couldn’t help but glare at him. He  _ accepted _ the invitation? He shouldn’t— “But.”

Hyungwon’s addendum gave Changkyun a little hope, something that could not be said about Guhn.

“What?” he asked, obviously bothered already even if he hadn’t heard Hyungwon’s terms yet.

“I will not attend the luncheon you mentioned last night, the one at the Commodore’s residence,” Hyungwon declared, firm and factual.

“What!?” Guhn exclaimed, perplexed. “You  _ have _ to go, all the important people in the city will be there!”

“All the more reason for me not to go,” Hyungwon said as if it was obvious. “You wouldn’t want me to— what was it that you said last time? Oh, ‘wag my tongue like an uncivilized mutt’, especially not to someone important.”

Changkyun bit back a smile. Maybe he didn’t have to worry so much about Hyungwon - he seemed to have everything under control.

There was a long pause, during which Changkyun assumed Guhn was glaring at Hyungwon, before he spoke again. “We’ll talk about this during lunch.”

“Superb,” Hyungwon replied blandly. “Anything else?”

“Not for the moment.”

Hyungwon, at last, removed his hand from Changkyun’s mouth, his stance changing to suggest he was about to close the door. “Very well, I’ll see you at lunch.”

Changkyun decided he had enough of playing nice and pushed the door closed with his back, right on Guhn’s face. Hyungwon jumped slightly back, surprised, before breaking into a smile at Changkyun’s petty act of rebellion.

They stayed quiet as they heard Guhn walk away, his footsteps always too heavy, too obvious, and once he had properly left, Changkyun arched an eyebrow at Hyungwon.

“Pretty dawn star? Lunch in the gardens?”

Hyungwon chuckled through his nose. “Jealous?”

Changkyun grimaced and looked away, rolling his shoulders dismissively the best way he could while still leaning on the door. “Just wondering about the nature of your relationship with Guhn.”

“Ah yes, the big question,” Hyungwon said, teasing. “We are business partners. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And you two never—?”

“Oh, god no,” Hyungwon immediately said, shaking his head as if wanting to emphasize it. “I know what people whisper about us, about Guhn and I, and I will tell you this now so there is no more doubt in your mind: none of it is true.”

“And what is the truth?” Changkyun asked, glancing up at Hyungwon from under his lashes. “What are you to him? What is he to you?”

“As I said,” Hyungwon began, taking a step closer to Changkyun; that position was too similar to the one they found themselves in during their first meeting, when Hyungwon gave him directions to that very study, “we are business partners. I use my talents to make money, he invests the money, the money multiplies.”

“If that is so, why did he call you his ‘pretty dawn star’?”

Hyungwon brought a hand up to Changkyun’s neck only so he could run his fingertips over the silver chain of the locket around it; unlike the night in the alleyway, Changkyun didn’t flinch. “The thing about Charles,” he said after a moment gathering his thoughts, “is that, because we have a business contract, he believes that it gives him the right to own me. The nicknames aren’t about any fondness or romantic interest. He’s simply patronizing me.”

Changkyun wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than Guhn being attracted to Hyungwon - his blood was boiling all the same. “And what about this lunch?”

“His way of trying to keep me in line,” Hyungwon explained. Changkyun could feel the soft, feather-like touch of his fingers brush his collarbone; he shivered, breath catching in his lungs. “He thinks I will be more amenable to his wishes and behave if I’m in a good mood, and he does this especially after we have arguments such as the one you witnessed earlier. My favorite food, expensive gifts, compliments, whatever it takes for him to get back in my good graces.”

“Does it work?”

One corner of Hyungwon’s mouth quirked up into a smirk. “How can he get back in my good graces if he was never there to begin with?”

Changkyun allowed himself to smile a bit, one of his own hands coming up to rest atop Hyungwon’s, hold it over his chest. “If you dislike him so much, why do you remain here?”

“It’s not all bad, this life,” Hyungwon replied, his voice taking that lower, secretive, almost seductive tone. “It brought you to me.”

Changkyun looked down, away from Hyungwon’s eyes; it suddenly felt like too much. What was he doing? Sneaking around with someone like Hyungwon, someone who had everything, trading tender words despite not having any sort of tangible relationship. He was always so careful, always kept himself grounded and made safe choices regarding his feelings, and now— he didn’t even know what ‘safe’ was anymore. Was Hyungwon safe or was he just the shiny lure being dangled before him, waiting for him to bite to hook him in and reel him out?

It was too much. And yet—

The mere thought of putting distance between himself and Hyungwon gave him such a feeling of dread his immediate response was to shy away from it. Whatever strange connection he felt to Hyungwon, severing it felt like a mistake. He’d spent an entire month away from him after only one meeting, one meeting that could have lasted no more than five minutes, and every single day during that month he felt like he couldn’t breathe, like there was something heavy pushing down on his chest. It wasn’t natural, there was absolutely nothing natural about that entire situation, but fighting it was simply not an option.

He was attached to Hyungwon before he even met him. It was something he was slowly starting to realize - the day he’d heard of the party at the mansion, something had tugged on his heartstrings and whispered to him ‘ _ this is it, what you’ve been waiting for your whole life _ ’. At the time, he believed it to be about money, all the riches he would find, what a great opportunity it was, but in hindsight… It was Hyungwon. What he’d been looking for all along.

Hyungwon did mention Changkyun’s skepticism had its days numbered; he was inclined to believe that.

“When you say things like that,” Changkyun finally said, still unable to bring himself to meet Hyungwon’s eyes, “it makes it hard for me to believe you haven’t bewitched me somehow.”

Jooheon was probably right, there was something supernatural at play there, he just didn’t know what it was. Not yet, anyway.

Hyungwon’s reaction to that was to huff a short laugh through his nose, a little hitch forming between his brows. “Is that what you think this is?”

“I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what this is, I haven’t got a clue.”

“So your explanation is that I put a spell on you?” Hyungwon summed up. “I am a medium, not a witch.”

Changkyun felt his cheeks heat up with shame, kicked himself in his thoughts for voicing that theory, one he’d always found silly himself.

“It’s not— it’s not  _ my _ explanation,” Changkyun said, defensive. “Jooheon is the one who put it in my head.”

“Ah, your rabbit-hearted friend,” Hyungwon said, “he’s quite afraid of me. I suppose this explains why.”

Changkyun swallowed, regret swirling around his heart, clogging his throat. He shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have opened his mouth; he felt like he’d done something wrong. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I wasn’t offended,” Hyungwon replied; he did pull his hand back from Changkyun’s grasp, though. Changkyun felt that loss of physical contact all through his body. “I understand your reasons for considering such a thing as an explanation for this—  _ attachment _ . I also understand your reasons to be suspicious of it. And of me.”

Changkyun blinked and immediately shook his head to denounce that affirmation. “I’m not suspicious of you.”

Hyungwon gave him an incredulous look and began stepping away. “You just accused me of bewitching you—”

“I’m sorry!” Changkyun exclaimed, grabbing onto Hyungwon’s arm to keep him from leaving his side. “I didn’t mean it like that, I— I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Hyungwon looked down at Changkyun’s hand on his arm for a few seconds, before nodding slowly to acknowledge his words. “I know. It’s alright.”

“Hyungwon—”

“You should probably leave now,” Hyungwon suddenly said, raising his head to meet Changkyun’s eyes again, “I’ll escort you out, make sure Guhn doesn’t see you.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Changkyun said firmly. “Not like this.”

Hyungwon stared at him for a moment and sighed, shaking his head to himself as if in disbelief. “All of these voices in my head and yours are by far the most confusing.”

“I don’t want to leave knowing you are upset because of me,” Changkyun explained softly, his hand traveling down the length of Hyungwon’s forearm until he could take his hand again. “I spoke without thinking, I didn’t mean to sound as if I was suspicious of you or your intentions, I— I’m just trying to make sense of these feelings.”

Hyungwon’s hand was lax in his grasp, allowing him to keep a hold on it but making no effort to hold Changkyun’s hand in return; it was making Changkyun more anxious.

“The way you spoke,” Hyungwon began, voice only slightly louder than a whisper, “it made it sound as if you believe you are the only one feeling like this.” Changkyun’s heart dropped upon hearing those words, the truth in them. “Or that I’m the one to blame.”

“That’s not—”

“I can’t control this any better than you can.”

“Hyungwon,” Changkyun called his name gently, giving his hand a tug to get his attention, “I’m sorry.”

Hyungwon inhaled long and slow through his nose, eyes falling to Changkyun’s hand on his and murmured, “Unhealthy attachments indeed.”

Changkyun saw in that a chance to lighten the mood, and repeated the line he’d used earlier. “The ‘unhealthy’ part might be up for debate.”

Seeing Hyungwon smile was all Changkyun needed to know they would be alright after that heavy exchange. To feel Hyungwon finally hold his hand back just sealed that certainty.

“I accept your apology,” Hyungwon said after a moment, meeting his gaze again, “but you truly should be on your way, before Guhn comes back.”

“Always sending me away,” Changkyun said with an affected sigh, “it’s ‘go home, little mouse’ this, ‘you should leave’ that.”

With a roll of his eyes, Hyungwon laughed and said, “Very well, permit me to invite you over, for a change.” Changkyun arched an eyebrow at him, quizzical, and Hyungwon dutifully elaborated, “The day after tomorrow, Guhn will be out attending that luncheon at the Commodore’s residence. The one you already know I won’t be present for.”

Realization dawned on Changkyun, and it probably showed on his face from the way Hyungwon smiled at him.

“Come over around midmorning,” Hyungwon said, concluding his invitation, “you’ll enter this place through the front door.”

◦ ◦ ◦

Before they even entered the residence, Kihyun already knew it was far too expensive for them to afford - not for very long, anyway. It was uptown, for starters, in a lower-to-middle-class neighborhood, already a screaming contrast to where they were living, at the very fringes of the city. Of course, it would be an improvement for Hoseok, if not all of them, to live where the air was cleaner, where there were fewer buildings making everything stuffy and dark, but  _ this _ place—

They just couldn’t afford it.

Kihyun looked over at Hyunwoo, giving him his best ‘we need to talk’ face when their eyes met. Hyunwoo ducked his head and said nothing. Hoseok, too interested in the change of scenery, didn’t notice the exchange.

It was a small, three-story building; they would be looking at the topmost apartment that day, since a higher floor was their ideal - the higher the building, the more air circulation, the fewer people around.

Thank heavens Kihyun convinced Hoseok and Hyunwoo to at least dress a little fancier than their usual worn-out clothes. If they were looking at a middle-class residence, they needed to at least  _ look _ middle-class. Although… Hoseok had lost so much weight that most of the clothes he was wearing were Kihyun’s. It shouldn’t break his heart so thoroughly as it did, to see his lover wearing his clothes, but the healthy Hoseok would have  _ never _ , not in a million years, managed to fit into Kihyun’s coats and shirts and trousers. And now… now he did.

They followed the landlord inside the building and up the winding stairs to the third floor, listening to the stout, chubby man describe the better qualities of the apartment. Good lighting, lots of windows, very open, two bedrooms, it already came with an icebox and a copper bathtub, and on and on and on.

Truthfully, Kihyun was tempted. That place was, indeed, the ideal for them. The neighborhood was quiet, the people there unassuming and private, and Hoseok would be able to recover much better there. The problem was, their meager savings would run out very fast if they closed the deal. They’d be able to stay a few months, maybe four or five, and if they wished to carry on living there they would have to have a steady income by then - something Kihyun already knew they wouldn’t have.

Kihyun had a goal in mind, and that goal involved purchasing a property they couldn’t be kicked out of. It would be  _ theirs _ . No monthly fees to worry about, no landlords breathing down their necks, looking for any excuses to either raise the price of the rent or toss them out into the street.

If they closed the deal on that apartment, Kihyun’s master plan would be out the window.

The temptation grew stronger once they were inside the apartment proper, when Kihyun could see how truly lovely everything was. He could envision the three of them living there, even, lounging about in front of the large windows of the living room, laughing, comfortable in each other’s arms. There was more space for Hoseok to walk around, get a little more exercise, and the air didn’t smell like garbage like it did in their current apartment.

And it had two bedrooms. That was definitely an upgrade, one that Hoseok would be happy about.

But still—

“Hyunwoo,” Kihyun called a few moments after the landlord excused himself, saying they could have a moment to discuss their thoughts about the place privately, “may we have a word?”

Hyunwoo gave him a look, somewhere between guilty and huffy, before he glanced over at Hoseok as if saying ‘he’s standing right there’. Kihyun rolled his eyes and turned to Hoseok.

“Bunny, I need to talk to Woo for a moment,” he announced. “Stay put, it’ll just take a minute.”

Hoseok looked over his shoulder at him and rolled his eyes, but agreed with a nod before he turned towards the window again, where he’d been watching the movement on the streets below. Kihyun grinned smugly at Hyunwoo and with a motion of his head indicating the bedroom at the end of the hall, he made his way over trusting Hyunwoo would follow. He did.

Once they were inside the empty bedroom, the door shut behind them, Kihyun immediately began speaking in hisses. “We can’t afford this place, what were you thinking?”

“Yes, we can!” Hyunwoo responded, in the same low voice. “We have more than enough money saved up to be able to—”

“Living here will kill all our savings, Woo,” Kihyun cut him off. “Sure, we’ll be fine for a few months, but think of the amount of money we’d have to spend - it’s not just the price of rent, it’s gas, it’s water, it’s taxes, it’s  _ food _ . It’s Hoseok’s medicine, clothes, basic supplies. We can’t afford this, not unless one of us gets a long-term job that pays relatively well.”

“Doesn’t Hoseok deserve this kind of comfort?” Hyunwoo questioned, stepping closer to Kihyun so their whispered argument didn’t have to become any louder. “We don’t know how much time he has left, if he can spend his last months living in a decent apartment, isn’t that good enough?”

The question pierced Kihyun right through his heart. “You— you’re giving up on him?”

“No! Never!” Hyunwoo was quick to deny. “I’m just being realistic! He’s running out of time and we’re not anywhere closer to curing him, we need to be prepared for the worst.”

Kihyun opened his mouth to protest but no sound came out. He shook his head and inhaled shakily, a hand coming up to cover his mouth, eyes filling up with tears. He was beginning to crack, and the cracks grew wider each time he heard things he was not prepared to hear, suckerpunches in the form of words. Hyunwoo was at his side in a second, gathering him in his arms like a child, and Kihyun leaned into him, allowed him to hold him for a moment. He just needed a moment to be weak, just a single moment, before he had to pretend to be strong again.

“I’ll never give up on him,” Hyunwoo whispered into Kihyun’s hair, lips pressed to the top of his head. “I’ll fight for him for as long as I possibly can, as hard as my body is able and even harder still, but we have to face reality, Ki. Living in denial and hope won’t do us or him any good.”

“It feels as if the more I try to keep him close, the further away he gets from me,” Kihyun admitted, face hidden against Hyunwoo’s broad chest. “Like I’m trying to hold onto sand.”

“I know,” Hyunwoo said. “I know. That’s why I think we should move here.”

That sobered up Kihyun very fast and he promptly shook his head. “No.”

“Ki, listen—”

“I said  _ no _ ,” he repeated, firm, and pulled away from Hyunwoo’s embrace. “I understand your reasons for wanting this for Hoseok,” he began, controlling his voice to keep it low and steady, “but you have to remember that, no matter how long he has, you and I will continue on. Spending everything we have in this place— what will happen to us? Where will you and I go, if he happens to pass?”

Hyunwoo cursed under his breath, ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

“It’s alright,” Kihyun said after taking another deep breath. He was cracking, but he couldn’t fall apart yet - it felt as if he was the only sane one of the three of them, with Hoseok wanting to be sent away and Hyunwoo making plans to give Hoseok a comfortable passing. Kihyun was the only one with the mindset of the three of them staying together no matter what, so he would be the one to take the reins of that entire situation. Their situation. “We’ll find someplace else, Woo, somewhere cheaper, just until we can afford our own place. That was the plan, right?”

Hyunwoo swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with the action. “Yeah. That was the plan.”

“You’re afraid,” Kihyun concluded, bringing his hands up to cup Hyunwoo’s face lovingly. “I’m afraid too, and I understand what you tried to do. Of course we’ll put Hoseok and his comfort first, but we can’t forget ourselves. If we can’t save him— we’ll have to carry on, and I know, I  _ know _ this is not something you want to think about, but it’s the truth.”

Then a thought hit Kihyun, one he hadn’t considered before, and he dropped his hands from Hyunwoo’s face, stepped back.

“Unless— unless you don’t expect to be with me if Hoseok is not here.”

Hyunwoo stared at him in complete shock, and that should have been the first clue Kihyun had gotten everything wrong, but in his mind it all made perfect sense - Hyunwoo keeping secrets, sneaking around, leaving Kihyun out of important things such as their efforts to make money, to  _ keep _ money—

“No! Kihyun, no, that couldn’t be more wrong,” Hyunwoo said, grabbing Kihyun’s hands, pulling him closer.

“Are you going to leave me when is just the two of us? Is Hoseok the thread that ties us together?” Kihyun asked, still sifting through his chaotic thoughts. “Have you found someone else? Someone with more means, someone—”

“No!” Hyunwoo was quick to interrupt him. “No, you and Hoseok are everything to me, I would never betray you -  _ either _ of you - like this.”

Kihyun pressed his lips together tight, tried to will his cracks to stop spreading, the fissures in his heart to stop growing. Not yet, it wasn’t time to fall apart yet.

“Blessed be our lifetime together for allowing me to recognize when you lie,” Kihyun said, sounding more level than he felt. “I believe you.”

Hyunwoo breathed out, relieved, and pressed a long kiss to Kihyun’s lips - one he reciprocated. Once they parted, Hyunwoo whispered to him, “I’m sorry for giving you reason to doubt my love for you. I’ll do better.”

Kihyun huffed and smiled, shaking his head lightly. “You don’t have to do better. I would appreciate it, however, if you were a little more forthcoming with your thoughts, your reasoning, so I don’t have to reach these sorts of conclusions anymore.”

Hyunwoo’s answer was a nod of his head and kiss to Kihyun’s forehead. It felt like enough. For the time being. “We won’t move here, then.”

“We’ll find a place for us,” Kihyun said, taking Hyunwoo by the hand and starting to move backwards to the door. “For now, Hoseok is probably wondering why we’re taking so long.”

“He might think we’re…” Hyunwoo began and trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively to Kihyun. Silly as it was, it did make him laugh.

“You look innocent but your mind is completely rotten,” Kihyun said as he opened the door and guided Hyunwoo out the room. “Behave, we are not at home and we’re supposed to be brothers.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Hyunwoo replied, and only to provoke Kihyun by contradicting himself, he gave his ass a squeeze as he walked by, taking the lead to get to Hoseok. Kihyun’s only reaction to that was to squeak and jump where he stood with the unexpected display of affection.

Once he finally reached the two, Kihyun was still smiling and Hoseok was still at the window, although he was quite focused on something outside.

“Ki, come see this,” Hoseok called after glancing over his shoulder and meeting Kihyun’s eyes. Kihyun obliged, coming to stand next to Hoseok by the window. “There, on the street beyond this one.”

Hoseok pointed towards the aforementioned street, and Kihyun had to all but press his face to the glass to be able to see what Hoseok was trying to show him, the angle too narrow for a clear view. Still, the sight was quite obvious.

It was a parade, colorful and loud, reds and golds coloring the grey streets.

“The circus will have its opening performance this weekend,” Hyunwoo said in a way of explaining what they were seeing, since it was too far away for them to know. “It seems they are advertising.”

“Can we go?” Hoseok asked, childlike wonder in his eyes, and Kihyun smiled to himself.

“The circus, bunny? I didn’t know you were interested in it.”

“I’m interested in anything that gives me plausible reason to leave the house,” Hoseok explained. “I’d like to go, very much so.”

Kihyun exchanged a glance with Hyunwoo, an entire conversation contained in only two seconds. “I suppose it’s fair, since we won’t be moving to this apartment.”

“We won’t?” Hoseok asked and frowned, looking from Kihyun to Hyunwoo. “You two seemed to have liked it.”

“It’s a little too expensive,” Hyunwoo was the one the reply.

“We’ll find a place better suited for us,” Kihyun said. “And yes, we can go to the circus.”

Hoseok beamed at Kihyun. “Yes! But—” he paused and made a pout, “can I wear my own clothes to the circus? Yours are a bit tight around the arms.”

Kihyun snorted and nodded to agree. “Yes, bunny, you can wear your own clothes.”

“Thank goodness,” Hoseok said, sighing with relief. “And while you two were having your secret discussion, I was thinking.”

Hyunwoo hummed, eyes lingering on the circus parade beyond. “Thinking of what?”

“We still have the ship,” Hoseok said. “If all else fails, we could live there.”

Kihyun blinked and turned to Hyunwoo, both of them considering Hoseok’s words. Kihyun chuckled to himself. “You know what,” he said, “you are right. We  _ do _ have the ship. But do you know something else?”

“I think you gave our Ki an idea,” Hyunwoo murmured to Hoseok, who grinned at him in response.

“There are places along the river we could rent,” Kihyun said. “Small apartments, single rooms, surely we can find something there.”

Hoseok closed his eyes and sighed. “I’d love to be near the water again.”

“It’s settled, then,” Kihyun declared. “We’ll look for a place by the river, and if all else fails, our ship will be our home.”

“I’ll look around, see if I find anything interesting,” Hyunwoo said, and when Kihyun met his eyes, the feeling that passed between them eased his suspicions - whatever Hyunwoo was hiding from them had nothing to do with how Hyunwoo felt for him and Hoseok. Of that, at least, he was absolutely certain.

◦ ◦ ◦

The day was winding down, sky tinted orange, and Minhyuk decided to call it; it had been a slow day, not many customers around, and he was bored enough to forego any possible income that could arise later on. That and he was also— distracted.

If there was one thing Minhyuk was used to, was getting what he wanted. Sure, he had been rejected before - several times, in fact - but being said ‘no’ wasn’t something he was usually concerned about. He always had a backup plan; if one thing didn’t go as he wanted it to go, he could rely on the second option. No harm, no foul. Rejection didn’t bother him.

And then he met Jooheon.

Truth be told, when he first met Jooheon, he didn’t think much of him - he was cute, yes, and his reactions were amusing, but it didn’t go beyond that. Minhyuk had enough experience in that game to know when to pursue someone and when not to waste his time, and Jooheon fell on the latter category; he was not interested, and Minhyuk had a myriad of other options that were ready and eager to accept his advances.

Still, he was a friendly person. He liked socializing, he liked being on good terms with people, and Jooheon was sweet and fun to be around - when he wasn’t hiding or running away from him as if Minhyuk had the Plague, that is. So he did what he always did; he was nice to Jooheon, offered to help him whenever he could since he was his senior colleague at the circus, talked to him whenever they ran into each other. Jooheon was obviously reluctant to interact with him, but he was never rude - if Minhyuk talked to him, he talked to him back instead of trying to make up excuses to avoid him.

His grandma sure raised him well, Minhyuk would give him that.

Everything was fine the way it was. He had a cordial relationship with Jooheon, they were friendly work colleagues, and it was  _ fine _ . Minhyuk would be glad if they continued being just that, didn’t require anything more, and then— then Jooheon had to go and play Knight In Shining Armor.

Minhyuk was anything  _ but _ a damsel in distress, he didn’t need help from anyone and didn’t  _ want _ help from anyone. He knew how to take care of himself, and sure, yes, he was sort of, maybe, perhaps, taking a beating that day, but he could have gotten out of that situation all by himself. Jooheon didn’t have to swoop in and come to his rescue.

But… he did.

He did.

He did and it threw Minhyuk off completely. It had changed everything, like the flash of light that heralds the clap of a thunderstrike. He simply couldn’t wrap his head around it - why,  _ why _ would anyone in their right mind get involved in a situation like that? Especially someone like Jooheon, a pacifist and a scaredy-cat? That level of kindness… Minhyuk had seen it, but never experienced it. It was never directed at him, mostly because people who knew him knew he deserved every bit of trouble coming his way, and Minhyuk— most everyone knew him.

That made Jooheon the exception. Sure, Minhyuk knew that every rule had at least one exception, he’d just never encountered a living, breathing example of that.

It felt like something had broken inside of him, but not— not in a bad way. Like a dam breaking sort of way. It had broken like— like an army that breaks into the enemy’s fortress. Something that had been pushing and pushing against his walls, and his walls had finally given in to the strain and… snapped.

The dent it left behind looked like Jooheon’s dimple.

It was infuriating how he just couldn’t stop thinking about Jooheon, bordering the point of obsession. Worse, it wasn’t thinking about Jooheon the way he would usually think about his conquests, it wasn’t sexual, he wasn’t spending his every waking moment fantasizing about all the ways he would love to take Jooheon apart - or be taken apart by him, he wasn’t picky - it was— random. Random thoughts, at random times, regarding random things that always led down right back to Jooheon.

It’s not like he was doing it on purpose either - Jooheon had a way of popping into his head uninvited, no matter how Minhyuk tried to keep himself busy and focused on other things. Even chasing tail didn’t help anymore; it had lost the luster completely, after his last few encounters proved to be unfulfilling in an existential level.

Jooheon was to blame. Jooheon and his unnecessary act of heroism. And then kindness, because he’d taken care of his wounds after, as if saving him hadn’t been enough.

Nobody asked Jooheon to be a fairytale prince.

It was vexing. Minhyuk was vexed.

It would pass, though. Minhyuk had been thrown off his axis, but he would bounce back soon. It had been just a few days after all, certainly that— whatever it was would go away after a little while longer. He didn’t even have to see Jooheon every day, he could easily avoid him if he wanted to - they worked in completely different areas of the circus, didn’t need to constantly run into each other. Yes, all he had to do was put some distance between them, get his thoughts back in the proper order, and go back to being the person he was before, the person who just didn’t care.

He just had to avoid Jooheon for a while. Easy peasy. 

He also had to convince himself that he only kept Jooheon’s handkerchief in his breast pocket at all times because it was practical. That he never used it so it wouldn’t get dirty was simply him being finicky, and staring longingly at it was— it never happened. Nobody could prove it.

Minhyuk finished putting away all his props - the crystal ball, the tarot cards, the little notepad he kept under the desk to consult whenever he ran out of lines to recite to his customers. Despite having loose morals and a glaring lack of ethics, Minhyuk was very fond of his little Fortune Teller stall; while his life was a constant whirlwind of events and people and problems, that stall was the stillness he could always count on. It was— safe. A space for something he knew how to do, something he thought he was good at.

Lying.

Once everything was properly stored away, locked in the heavy wooden chest he kept behind the curtain at the back of his stall for safety, Minhyuk collected his coat, his hat, and started making his way towards the exit. It was a straight line from there, he could, in fact, see the cheap iron gates that lined the property just ahead, but upon hearing the sounds of music coming from the main tent, Minhyuk decided to swerve that way instead; the circus performers were rehearsing, judging from the nature of the noise, preparing for the fast-approaching opening night. He always liked to watch them practice - in fact, Minhyuk once wanted to become a performer himself, but he never quite found a talent worthy to be showcased in the ring. He could practice something, but— eh. Who has the energy for that, really?

Immediately upon entering the main tent, Minhyuk regretted his decision. Jooheon was there, leaning on the side of the stands, watching the rehearsal. Minhyuk could only see his back, the overlarge coat covering his shape thoroughly, but Jooheon had become such an object of fascination to him he could recognize him by just looking at the hair strands peeking from under his newspaper boy cap, spilling over the back of his coat’s collar.

He should turn around and leave. He’d seen the rehearsal many times before, he could miss this one.

Before he knew it, though, he was already standing next to Jooheon, hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers, shoulders drawn in defensively. Jooheon flinched when he noticed his presence, so focused on the rehearsal as he was, but he quickly relaxed again and turned his attention to the ring. It made him happy that Jooheon wasn’t afraid of him anymore.

Minhyuk tried not looking at Jooheon. He really tried. The acrobats were going over their number right in front of him, and that’s where he tried to keep his gaze on, but after only a couple of minutes, he found himself staring at Jooheon instead. Jooheon was— he was the most lovable, lovely thing Minhyuk had ever laid his eyes on. The look in his eyes, that sparkle of fascination with which he was watching the tricks the acrobats were doing in the ring, his dimpled smile, how genuine his every reaction was.

Jooheon exuded something which was not usually attractive to Minhyuk - adorableness, naiveté, a certain innocence. Jooheon wasn’t innocent, of course, nobody could remain innocent for long in that day and age, but… the illusion of it was there. Something that made it feel like Jooheon was on a higher plane than Minhyuk. The high-hanging apple, red and shiny and so very tempting, too far up the tree for him to reach. Too good for him.

Made him want to take a bite out of him even more. How juicy, how sweet would he taste on his tongue— 

Minhyuk forced himself to tear his eyes away from Jooheon, kept them locked ahead at the ring, once he realized the turn his thoughts were taking. He took a deep breath, let the acrid smell of sawdust fill his nose along with, hopefully, a healthy whiff of self-control. Jooheon wasn’t interested. He wasn’t interested, and Minhyuk didn’t chase after uninterested partners. Having those thoughts would lead to nothing but frustration and Minhyuk knew better than to let himself go down that road.

And then he was staring at Jooheon again, taking in the way his dark brown eyes reflected the lamps hanging inside the tent, little constellations in his gaze; how his lips, heart-shaped and rosy, were stretched into a sunny smile, bright and sincere; the dimples in his chubby cheeks begging to be poked, the rise of his cheekbones begging to be kissed.

Minhyuk looked down instead, at the ground, at his feet, much safer a scenery than Jooheon’s adorable face. Except not really, because once he looked down, his gaze went directly to Jooheon's hand, just sitting there against his body. Minhyuk had the strange urge to reach out and hold it. He wondered how it would feel to thread their fingers together, if Jooheon’s hands would be cold - Minhyuk would gladly warm them up if they were, hold them between both of his own, against his chest, and kiss his fingertips, and— 

Realization hit him like a mean kick to the groin.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no—

“How’s your lip?”

Minhyuk jumped at the question, whipping his head up again to find Jooheon staring at him strangely, confusion in his pretty eyes.

“It’s— It’s fine, it’s healing fast!” Minhyuk replied, loud, too loud in his panic. Jooheon flinched, even more taken aback.

“Uhm… okay,” Jooheon mumbled and shifted slightly away from Minhyuk, pressed himself closer to the stands.

Awesome, now Jooheon thought Minhyuk was going mad.

Minhyuk turned himself entirely towards the ring ahead, his body stiff as a board, the beating of his heart so strong it was rattling him from head to toe. It felt as if he was standing at the edge of a precipice, just one step away from personal calamity and there was a hard, unforgiving wind blowing at his back, inching him forward beyond his control. He couldn’t stop it, how can someone stop the wind from blowing? He was going to be pushed off the cliff and he would  _ fall _ —

For the first time, Minhyuk was the one who ran away from Jooheon, zipping out of there faster than one could say “tactical retreat”.

◦ ◦ ◦

It was much easier to reach the mansion through the main path, the rise less steep than the hill Changkyun usually climbed, and, as he’d always thought, arriving at the mansion through the main path and seeing the looming building before him was incredibly intimidating. Changkyun felt out of place there, tiny and insignificant, like the structure itself was mocking him.

He ignored that sensation, though - he had better things to think about, such as the image that greeted him as he approached the entrance.

Hyungwon opened the wide double doors before Changkyun even finished climbing the stone steps, a bright smile on his face and eyes sparkling under the morning sun. His breath caught in his throat, his heart skipped a beat, he felt that strange sensation of cold in the pit of his stomach - of all the times he’d seen Hyungwon, that was the moment he would always go back to when he thought of him: Hyungwon smiling at him, welcoming and warm, his hair moving with the soft breeze.

There was something about Hyungwon’s demeanor that was different from what he’d been used to - he seemed almost happy, relaxed and comfortable unlike Changkyun had ever seen him before.

He was breathtaking.

Again, he wasn’t dressed up in his fancy clothes, opting for another loose white shirt and simple trousers - the difference from the last time he’d been there was that the shirt was tucked in and he could catch a glimpse of a white lace undershirt peeking out from his sleeves and the open collar, covering his neck. Hyungwon seemed to have a thing with lace - it was the third time he saw him wearing lace items. It suited him.

“Good morning,” Hyungwon greeted him once Changkyun finally reached the landing, that warm smile still on his lips. “You really came.”

Changkyun arched a confused brow at the comment. “You invited me.”

Hyungwon shrugged, averting his eyes to the scenery behind Changkyun. He almost looked embarrassed - but only almost. “An invitation is not a decree, you were free to decline.” His voice sounded as soft as his hair looked that morning. “Besides… I wasn’t sure where we stood after the way we parted last time.”

Changkyun ducked his head, the tips of his ears feeling conspicuously warm. Yes, he didn’t forget,  _ couldn’t  _ forget the tense conversation they had shortly before he left, how Changkyun’s careless words had wounded Hyungwon - not his intention, but the consequence nonetheless. That Hyungwon invited him back at all was a surprise, and Changkyun wasn’t about to let a chance of truly making amends with Hyungwon slip through his fingers.

Changkyun put his hands in his pockets, unsure what to do with them; he tried to dress up a little that day, tried not to look as much like a street rat as he usually did. His best shirt, his best trousers, the new coat and the pair of boots he’d recently bought using some of the money Hyungwon himself had provided the night they met. For once he wanted to make a positive impression, look more like a guest than the intruder he’d been so far. He hoped it worked.

“For as long as you want me around, I’ll always accept your invitation,” Changkyun said, simple, honest, and Hyungwon smiled at him, a shy little thing that sent Changkyun’s heart spinning.

“That’s— that’s good to hear,” he said, then cleared his throat, motioning awkwardly for Changkyun to enter the mansion - he’d never seen Hyungwon looking so unsure, that mask of confidence, of arrogance, nowhere to be found. It was adorable. “Well then, come in.”

Changkyun did so gladly, stepping through the door while looking around with unconcealed curiosity. Coming in from the front door felt much different than sneaking in through the windows, that was certain - the foyer was wide, grand, the ceiling arching up above them making it seem much higher than it was, making Changkyun feel small. The main stairs of the mansion stood ahead, wide, dark wood polished to a shine, and those, too, made him feel small.

He heard Hyungwon close the door behind him and then his footsteps approaching, coming to a stop by his side. “So?” Hyungwon asked. “What do you think?”

“I think it suits you, living in a place like this,” Changkyun replied, still looking around in a daze.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yes,” he said, no hesitation, “it’s— regal.”

Hyungwon let out a short chuckle of surprise. “Implying I’m regal?”

“You are,” Changkyun, again, replied with no hesitation. “If you told me you were secretly royalty, I would believe you.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m no royal,” Hyungwon said, amused. “Do you want a tour?”

“That sounds great,” Changkyun said, tearing his eyes away from the structure of the mansion so he could look at Hyungwon instead. “It’ll be good to know the best spots to break in from, for the next time I come to steal from you.”

Hyungwon laughed and shook his head fondly, indicating with his head for Changkyun to follow him. Changkyun did, following just one step after him wanting to keep as close as possible.

Changkyun learned many new things during that house tour. The first one was, that place was much bigger than he’d first realized. Whenever he thought ‘this is probably the last room on the ground floor’, Hyungwon opened another door to reveal yet another room. There was a room for  _ everything _ \- in fact, so far, Hyungwon had taken him to three different libraries.  _ Three _ . There was the room Hyungwon called the ‘séance room’, the one Changkyun was already acquainted with, but there were other similar rooms around as well, elegant sitting rooms to entertain guests that had more couches and armchairs and lacked any round tables. There was the den, a room that smelled strongly of cigars that Hyungwon didn’t enter, lingering in the doorway as Changkyun took a look around.

“I detest the smell,” Hyungwon explained, “it makes my headaches worse. It’s also where Guhn receives his illustrious friends, so I prefer to stay away.”

He didn’t need to explain further than that.

There was the music room, the one Changkyun had tried spying on during his first visit to the mansion, with its grand piano and soft pastel colors; there, he learned Hyungwon couldn’t play any musical instruments, and while he tried to learn to sing, he never quite mastered it. The dining room was grand, fitting for the building, with a high ceiling and a chandelier Changkyun could swear was made of crystals - he was too shy to ask and Hyungwon didn’t offer the reply. Hyungwon even took Changkyun to the servants’ quarters - or better, the servants’  _ wing, _ since a whole side of the mansion was meant for the servants alone. He introduced Changkyun to the ladies who worked in the kitchen, three of them he hadn’t met and Kyla, the one he’d encountered in Hyungwon’s study. That wing was closed off, separate from the rest of the mansion; there were, in fact, only two doors that gave access to that side, one that led from the dining room to the kitchens, and one closer to the entrance, by the main stairs.

None of it made the servants’ wing any less opulent, though.

There was a small inner courtyard between the main area and the servants’ wing, just an open, square area with a round pond in the middle. There were no fish in it, only a quantity of aquatic flowers floating on the surface. Changkyun quite liked that place. Hyungwon, noticing his admiration, pointed up to a window on the second floor, sheer white curtains floating in the breeze.

“That’s my room,” Hyungwon said. “It’s good to know you’ll at least like the view from there.”

Changkyun blushed and didn’t make any comments. 

From there, Hyungwon took him back through the dining room and into a partially hidden door that led to the rotunda - Changkyun had no idea that place even had a rotunda, but alas, there it was. They climbed up the spiral stairs to the second floor; they could have continued up to the third floor, but Hyungwon stopped there, the landing a small room with three open archways leading to different areas. There was another parlor on one side, like a lounging area, with a comfortable-looking couch and an even more comfortable-looking recliner by the tall windows. The second arch led to the landing of the main stairs, and Changkyun realized that he could have hidden there instead of fleeing to the ground floor during his attempt to rob the place. He didn’t know it was there then, but now he knew - not that he would have made anything different. If he had, he wouldn’t have met Hyungwon.

The second floor consisted basically of bedrooms. When asked how many there were, Hyungwon said he’d never counted, but that he guessed there were about eight or ten bedrooms - not counting the ones in the servants’ wing. And Changkyun’s guess that the two doors in the corridor outside the reading room, from where he entered the place the first time, were bedrooms proved correct - he was wrong, however, in thinking there was anything valuable in them. The bedrooms there were guest rooms and contained only basic furniture and linens.

“We keep most of the guest bedrooms locked,” Hyungwon informed. “They’re only used when Guhn has his friends staying over, and that’s very rare.”

“What about  _ your _ friends?” Changkyun asked.

Hyungwon’s answer was just to laugh. Changkyun didn’t know what was so funny.

Hyungwon pointed to the door by the stairs that led to the third floor and said, “That’s Guhn’s office. He locks it when he’s not in there, the same way I lock my office when I’m not there.”

“Why?”

“Let’s just say we don’t trust each other.” Hyungwon’s simple reply was close to what Changkyun was expecting. “We do the same with our respective bedrooms. I keep the keys to my own room and study with me at all times, in fact.”

“Except when you let random thieves borrow them,” Changkyun corrected him in a teasing tone, which prompted a giggle from Hyungwon.

“Not ‘random’,” Hyungwon murmured, and continued on with the tour, leading Changkyun back towards the rotunda. In his normal volume, he said, “Guhn’s bedroom is the main suite, it’s located on the other side of the landing. It overlooks the front of the mansion.”

“But we’re not going there,” Changkyun concluded.

Hyungwon shook his head, thus confirming the guess. “No reason to go there. I would advise you to stay away, in fact, lest you end up triggering some trap or another. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

That was such a ridiculous idea that Changkyun simply had to laugh. Hyungwon shot him a sideways glance and smiled, not for sharing Changkyun’s amusement, but for finding it endearing; or, at least, that’s what Changkyun assumed it was.

“My room is right through here,” Hyungwon informed as they crossed the rotunda to the last archway, which opened into a long corridor lined with windows on one side, a single door on the other. Hyungwon pulled a bundle of keys from the back pocket of his trousers, easily finding the correct one for the door and unlocking it. He pushed it open and gestured for Changkyun to enter first.

Changkyun hesitated, suddenly feeling self-conscious - he was about to enter Hyungwon’s  _ bedroom _ . His study was one thing, but his bedroom— his bedroom was the most private area of that mansion, and there he was, letting Changkyun enter without a second thought.

Taking a subtle breath to get a grip on himself, Changkyun mumbled an ‘excuse me’ and shyly made his way inside, taking everything in with curious eyes. The smell hit him first, flowers and honey, and promptly he felt himself relax - Hyungwon’s gentle scent had that effect on him.

The decor there was very minimalistic, all whites and dark browns, elegant but cozy. The furniture was sparse, a couple of dressers on one side, a large armoire at the back, a vanity sitting diagonally on a far corner. His attention was immediately drawn to Hyungwon’s bed - it was wide, with four tall wooden posts, and a canopy made of sheer fabric so delicate it gave the impression it would dissolve in Changkyun’s fingers were he to touch it. The number of pillows there almost made him laugh, not for finding it comical, but because the image of Hyungwon sleeping surrounded by all those pillows made him feel fuzzy on the inside. The pillowcases, the duvet, the sheets, all of it was pristine white, spotless. 

“I’m not very good with interior design, I’m afraid,” Hyungwon said, standing at the door, looking around his own room. “It’s quite plain.”

“Not at all,” Changkyun said. “It’s very comfortable here. It feels welcoming.”

“Because you are welcome,” Hyungwon pointed out, finally stepping inside and moving to the door at the far end of the room. “There’s a bathroom through here, and through the bathroom, there’s a second, smaller bedroom.”

“Oh?” Changkyun asked, curious. “You have two bedrooms?”

Hyungwon chuckled as he pushed open the bathroom door. Changkyun could see a spacious porcelain bathtub the moment he did. “Technically, yes. I don’t use the second one, though. Not yet anyway.” He crossed the bathroom - which was also quite large - and unlocked the second door. “The only access to this room is through mine.”

“What’s the use of it?” Changkyun asked, following Hyungwon and stopping next to him to peek into the dark room. The curtains there were closed, so the only light was that which leaked in from the other room.

“I believe this was supposed to be a maiden’s room, once. The main room for a young lady, this one for her company maid.”

“Makes sense.”

“Mhm,” Hyungwon hummed, and turned to Changkyun with a soft smile on his lips. “If you ever need a place to hide, I guess this place is well suited.”

Changkyun snorted at that. “Thank you, your concern for my well-being is touching.”

“I do what I can,” Hyungwon said airily, and made his way back to his room proper. Changkyun followed. “There are still a couple of rooms upstairs you haven’t seen yet.”

“Other than your study?”

“Yes. There’s a storage room next to it, we keep some interesting things there.”

Changkyun was about to ask what those things were, when something caught Changkyun’s eye. Sitting atop one of the dressers, there was a small display of jewelry - a few necklaces, some rings. Changkyun approached to inspect them - they all had large ornaments on them, decorated with intricate patterns created from something that looked like very fine strings.

“What are these?” he asked, looking at an oval pendant, the delicate strings drawing a tree with swirly leaves. He heard Hyungwon’s footsteps approaching until he was standing next to him.

“Oh, you found my collection,” Hyungwon commented, and something in his tone made Changkyun raise his head to look at him. “These are all mourning jewelry.”

Changkyun blinked. “You mean—” He looked at the items again, realization slowly sinking in, and then looked up at Hyungwon again. “Are these made with dead people’s hair?”

Hyungwon was obviously trying not to laugh. “Not all of them,” he said, “that one is carved in bone.”

Changkyun looked over at the piece Hyungwon mentioned and, indeed, there was a cameo pendant with a smooth black backdrop and a scorpion ornament in the middle, sculpted from a white material he’d previously thought to be seashell or ivory. It was a lovely piece, certainly, but—

Bone. Human bone.

Changkyun’s jaw dropped. “Why— isn’t this a little morbid?”

“Perhaps,” Hyungwon granted. “I do speak to the dead, though. And none of these are of people I don’t know, I am acquainted with them all.”

Changkyun frowned, looking over at the jewelry with more care now. There were many pieces of jewelry containing hair of the same color - dark brown, almost black. A family? Hyungwon’s? He wasn’t sure if he should ask, wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know. He could spot other hues, though - lighter brown, copper, blonde, a few gray ones. 

“Is it that strange to you?” Hyungwon asked after Changkyun went too long without speaking.

“It is a little shocking,” he admitted. “The more I think about it though, the more I understand. I can see why someone would want to keep a piece of a loved one around, to remind them they were there once.”

Hyungwon smiled at him and nodded. “You are right. In fact, I hear some make this type of jewelry not to mourn the dead, but to show affection for living loved ones. Lovers, most of the time.”

Changkyun met Hyungwon’s eyes and quickly looked away. He was tempted to ask for a lock of his hair to put inside the empty locket hanging from his neck - that would be too weird though, weirder than Hyungwon collecting dead people memorabilia.

“I understand how that could be— uh, romantic,” Changkyun stammered out.

“Oh, speaking of jewelry and mementos,” Hyungwon said, moving to the nightstand by his bed. Changkyun quietly followed. “I think you’ll find these amusing.”

“Please tell me you don’t collect fingernails or eyeballs or other strange things like that,” Changkyun said jokingly, and Hyungwon laughed.

“I don’t, don’t worry,” he replied while rummaging through a drawer.

Changkyun looked around as he waited, his eyes falling on Hyungwon’s bed again. He reached out, brushed his fingers over the canopy and found that it was as soft as it looked, even if not as frail. He touched the duvet as well, wondered how it would feel to lie on it - preferably with Hyungwon. A wicked part of him wanted to pull Hyungwon up only to push him down on that bed, climb over him and kiss him all over, leave bite marks behind every expanse of skin to lay claim to him, mark Hyungwon as his own, so everyone knew not to cross into his territory. He wanted it so bad his pulse spiked, a wave of heat rushing through his body. 

He turned his gaze away and forced himself to think about puppies instead, before Hyungwon’s strange telepathy warned him of his inappropriate thoughts.

“Ah, here,” Hyungwon declared, straightening himself before he passed what he’d been looking for to Changkyun.

Two photographs. The first was of a group of people around a table, something Changkyun recognized as a séance. The figure at the head of the table, however, had their face blurred - it almost looked as if someone had smudged it, dragged a thumb over it.

“That’s me,” Hyungwon said and pointed at the figure. “Remember how I mentioned I can’t be photographed?”

Changkyun chuckled, looking closer at the picture. “This is— I don’t even know. I’m not sure if I find it impressive or ridiculous.”

“A little bit of both, I would say.”

Changkyun moved the first picture away, held it with his other hand, so he could look at the second picture. That one was only of Hyungwon; he was sitting on a wide chair with a tall back, legs crossed daintily, arms placed over the armrests, elegant hands hanging idly. His face, again, was blurred - it looked as if was turning to smoke.

“Such a waste,” Changkyun muttered. 

“At least my body looks alright in it,” Hyungwon quipped, and Changkyun nodded to agree before he returned the photographs to him.

“If only I could draw or paint,” Changkyun lamented with a sigh.

Hyungwon shot him a smile before he moved to put the pictures back in their rightful place. “If you really want it, I suppose I can commission an artist to paint me.”

“Tempting.”

As he waited for Hyungwon to finish storing away the pictures, Changkyun noticed something that changed his mood in a heartbeat - another bruise, small, this time located on Hyungwon’s nape, just under his hairline. Changkyun hadn’t noticed so far because the high lace collar of his undershirt covered it, but with his head down it was clear as day. A bruise in a place like that doesn’t  _ just _ happen. He could write off the bruise he’d seen on Hyungwon’s wrist as an accident, if he somehow turned around too fast and bumped his wrist on a piece of furniture, but on the back of his neck— it couldn’t be an accident.

The shape of the bruise, the position, the angle… It looked like somebody had grabbed him by the back of the neck. Changkyun wanted to ask, as much as he’d wanted to ask about the bruise on his wrist, but Hyungwon wouldn’t tell him. Hyungwon could be very forthcoming whenever Changkyun asked him questions, but questions of that nature… Hyungwon wouldn’t answer. He simply knew he wouldn’t.

Changkyun inched forward, wanting to take a closer look at that bruise, at the same time Hyungwon turned around again and moved with the intention to walk to the door; he stopped short when he almost bumped into Changkyun who had been standing there, right behind him. Changkyun saw him swallow, saw the way his gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and then to the floor, how his movements became awkward when he stepped around him. It dawned on him that Hyungwon hadn’t touched him a single time since his arrival. Didn’t hold his hand, didn’t stay close enough for them to accidentally brush against each other, stepped away anytime Changkyun got too close.

His heart felt tight at the discovery. Had he hurt Hyungwon that much the last time he was there, enough that he wouldn’t even touch him anymore? Or was it something else? He forced himself to forget about the bruise for a moment to address that issue first, one that had more chances of being put to rest than any inquiries regarding any possible abuse Hyungwon might be suffering.

“Hyungwon,” Changkyun called before Hyungwon could leave the bedroom. Hyungwon stopped and turned around, giving him a questioning look. “Are you sure you’re not mad at me still?”

Hyungwon frowned and shook his head. “No, I’m not. If I were mad, I wouldn’t have invited you over, would I?”

“But something changed,” Changkyun pointed out and advanced towards Hyungwon at a normal pace. As he suspected, Hyungwon took a step back when he got too close. Changkyun lifted an eyebrow at him as if saying ‘ _ see?’ _ .

Hyungwon sighed, thinking for a moment before speaking. “You were overwhelmed. I’m giving you space.”

“I didn’t ask for space.”

Hyungwon shrugged, both shoulders rising and falling in a quick motion. “I’m giving it to you anyway.”

“What if I don’t want it?” Changkyun asked, defiant, and took another step forward.

Hyungwon stepped back again. “We should probably head downstairs, I asked the ladies at the kitchen to prepare us something to eat.”

“You’re avoiding the subject,” Changkyun pointed out as he followed Hyungwon out of the bedroom. “You’re still hurt, aren’t you?”

Hyungwon let out a heavy sigh as he closed and locked the door behind them. “I am not. I am, however, trying to behave like a rational person for a change, instead of letting my desires get the better of me. I’m not sure why it bothers you so - I thought you’d be glad of it.”

“Why on earth would I be glad?” Changkyun asked, baffled to the core. “I might have spoken without thinking the last time, but I don’t remember saying, or even implying, that what is happening is a bad thing.”

Hyungwon turned around to face him, expression pinched, before he huffed a breath of air that sounded tired and began making his way back towards the rotunda. Changkyun easily fell into step with him. “When I think I’m starting to understand you—”

“What is there to understand?” Changkyun said. “I am a very straight-forward person.”

Hyungwon chuckled through his nose. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“You talk as if you’re not just as confusing yourself.”

“I’m not confusing, I’m  _ mysterious _ .”

“Same thing.”

“Fine,” Hyungwon declared when they were halfway down the iron stairs in the rotunda. He whirled around to face Changkyun, looking up at him from the lower step he was standing on. “What do you want?”

Changkyun blinked with surprise at the sudden question. “Excuse me?”

“What do you want?” Hyungwon repeated. “Do you want me to keep my distance? Do you want me to come closer? Do you want me to keep my words in check or do you want me to keep waxing poetic about this strange connection we have? Do you even want me to acknowledge it at all, or would you rather I pretend it’s not happening?” Hyungwon barely stopped to breathe as all the questions left his mouth, eyes watching Changkyun intensely. “As I’ve said last time, you’re not the only one dealing with this. I’m overwhelmed and confused too, I have no idea what to do with this— this— whatever this is.”

Changkyun wasn’t expecting Hyungwon to react like that, to become so emotional, but he also found that he was happy about it. Happy to know what was on Hyungwon’s mind. Happy to know he wasn’t alone. “And here I thought you had the answers for everything.”

Hyungwon scoffed. “Ask me about the afterlife and I’ll write you a book; I am not as well-versed on matters of the heart.”

“Well, neither am I.”

Hyungwon opened his mouth to speak but seemed to change his mind, shaking his head instead and continuing to descend the stairs. Changkyun followed right behind him. “I’m done talking about this.”

“Hyungwon,” Changkyun called once they reached the landing, rushing forward so he could hold Hyungwon by the hand, “what I want is for you to stop holding back. I’m open to finding out where this bond between us will lead, all I need is to know you want the same.”

Hyungwon looked at Changkyun, then down at their hands. “I already know where it will lead.”

“Then why are you fighting it?”

Hyungwon bit his lower lip, an action that didn’t have any right to be as attractive as it was, but alas. “I’m not— I’m not fighting it.” He raised his eyes to meet Changkyun’s again. “It’s very distressing, you know? I usually know everything, but this… This is different. I don’t understand it, I can’t explain it, it feels like I suddenly went blind when I could see for miles before.” He paused to breathe, and Changkyun could tell he was having a hard time sifting through his thoughts to make something coherent out of them. “I thought this would be just a fancy at first, I even predicted I would be seeing more of you in the future, but I never expected—  _ this _ .”

“What  _ did _ you expect?”

“I have no idea,” Hyungwon answered with a wry smile. “I only know what I  _ didn’t _ expect, and I didn’t expect it to hurt like it does.”

Changkyun breathed out slowly through his mouth, his grip on Hyungwon’s hand becoming tighter. It was like Hyungwon was telling Changkyun about his own feelings, saying out loud what was in Changkyun’s heart and mind. He didn’t understand it either, and it hurt him too, those feelings. No, not the feelings - the being away. The constant longing, the emptiness, how missing Hyungwon had somehow become the norm.

It did hurt.

Having Hyungwon so close and feeling like they were miles apart, however, hurt even more.

“You probably know this, since you seem to know everything there is to know about me,” Changkyun began, carefully choosing his words, “but I don’t— I don’t  _ do _ feelings. I find them bothersome, it’s irrelevant in the grand scheme of things when I have more pressing matters to be concerned about, so… I have no idea what I’m doing. All I know is how terrible it feels to be away from you, which I’m beginning to suspect is the case for you as well.”

Hyungwon replied with a nod of his head, confirming Changkyun’s guess.

“I don’t think I can go back to how it was before, not now that I’ve met you,” he continued, inching towards his conclusion. “I’ll always know you’re out there and I’ll always feel this urge to go to you, I’ll never know peace again.” From the way Hyungwon’s expression shifted, how the muscles around his jaw became tight, how his eyes narrowed, Changkyun could tell he felt the same. “I see what you’re trying to do - you’re afraid I have a certain opinion of you and you’re trying to put distance between us for my sake.”

“You see,” Hyungwon murmured before Changkyun could truly finish his line of thought, that same tense expression on his face, “everyone has ‘a certain opinion of me’. It’s never a good one.”

“Then everyone is an idiot.”

That made Hyungwon smile; it was a soft, sad little thing, but it was satisfying to see nonetheless. “I’m— I’m afraid you see me just as everyone else does. The freak who talks to ghosts, a novelty, someone to be feared and avoided.”

Oh. That explained why it hurt him so much to think Changkyun suspected him of putting a spell on him, of being responsible for their misfortune. It only made him regret his thoughtless words even more.

“That’s all I am to them. To everyone.”

“Not to me,” Changkyun quickly said, looking into Hyungwon’s eyes so there would be not a shadow of a doubt that he was speaking the truth. “I hardly ever think about—  _ ghosts _ when I’m with you. I think about how kind you are, how intelligent, of your sharp tongue and quick wit. Even how much of an arrogant prick you are sometimes is a matter of fascination to me.”

Hyungwon snorted at the sudden jab, a laugh bursting through his lips. “My, how highly you think of me.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Changkyun said, a little louder, “I don’t give a damn about your ghosts, if they’re real or not, and I don’t think you’re some wicked fiend out to get me. I’m not afraid of you, on the contrary - I trust you. The more time I spend with you, the more you feel like— like safety.”

Hyungwon eyes widened just a bit, lips parting in quiet surprise, the laughter gone from his features. Changkyun had to make an effort not to stare, that expression plucking at his heartstrings like a talented musician would play a harp.

“I was confused at first, didn’t know what to think about you and all of this, and still don’t truly know. I don’t know what is happening any more than you do,” he finally concluded, “but I want to find out.”

Hyungwon took a deep breath, nodding slowly as he did. Changkyun could actually see the gears turning in his mind, processing everything he’d told him, until he finally seemed to reach a conclusion.

“I want you to find out as well.”

“Stop running from me then,” Changkyun said, close to whining. To make his point, he shifted his grip on Hyungwon’s hand so he could thread their fingers together. “Let me get close to you. Let me get to know you.”

“It’s hard to argue when you say it like that,” Hyungwon said, a bashful smile on his lips. He shook his head, chasing the remnants of their brief argument away before he spoke again, sounding a little more like himself, confident and posh. “If you want to get to know me, we can do it over tea.”

“I already know one thing: you sure love tea,” Changkyun joked, walking out of the rotunda with Hyungwon, their hands still joined. He was still reeling, but it was surprisingly easy to get back to their usual interactions and familiarity even after the tension.

“It’s not just tea,” Hyungwon responded. “I’m very fond of food too.”

“Noted.”

Changkyun expected Hyungwon to lead them back to the dining room or to one of the many parlors, but Hyungwon walked him all the way through the mansion, to the very back and out the wide glass doors that led out to the gardens. Changkyun smiled without noticing, held Hyungwon’s hand that bit tighter.

He hadn’t forgotten the bruise, was still seething with curiosity, but that warmth in his chest was leaving him overwhelmed. It wasn’t the time for that discussion, especially not after their previous conversation, so as per usual, he tried to deflect his emotions with humor.

“This is starting to feel like a date.”

Hyungwon gave him a cheeky grin in response as he guided him down the stone steps and into the garden, up the little path of white cobblestones. “It wasn’t my original plan, but… It’s not  _ not _ a date.”

“O-oh,” Changkyun stuttered. Hyungwon laughed.

There was already a table set for them there, small, round, and white, two matching chairs waiting for them. On the table, there were three tower-like displays of various different foods - cakes, biscuits, macaroons, sandwiches, scones, things Changkyun didn’t even know the name of. His jaw dropped with surprise, because not even for a second he thought Hyungwon would go this far; he’d expected tea, not— not legitimate towers of pastries.  _ Expensive _ pastries.

Hyungwon seemed to notice his surprise and said, “I saw how you were a little upset knowing I’d have lunch with Guhn in the gardens the other day. This isn’t lunch, but— it’s food. In the gardens.”

Changkyun let out a puff of incredulous laughter. “You are maddening.”

“Get used to it, I plan on spoiling you rotten,” Hyungwon chirped as if that didn’t completely melt Changkyun’s insides down to a puddle of goo.

They had just sat down when a couple of servants brought a tray with fresh tea and placed the set neatly in front of them - the teapot, the cups, the pitcher with milk, the dainty bowl of sugar cubes. Changkyun had tea before, sure, but never one so—  _ thorough. _ Hyungwon thanked the servants, all bright smiles, and once they were gone, poured the tea for Changkyun himself. He had no idea what it was - all he knew was that it smelled delicious, flowery and fresh, and that its color was somewhere between rosy and golden, not quite orange but not quite pink. It was a very pretty shade.

“What is it?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity - and also because it was good to be aware of what he was about to put in his mouth.

“Wild rosebud tea,” Hyungwon informed as he poured some tea for himself. “It’ll go well with the sweets.”

“I didn’t even know you could make tea out of rosebuds,” Changkyun admitted.

“If it’s a plant, you can make tea from it,” Hyungwon said, simple. “Trust me, I did my share of experimenting.”

Changkyun arched an eyebrow. “You did?”

“Oh, yes,” he said with a chuckle, taking a macaroon from the display and offering it to Changkyun. He quietly accepted it - he’d heard of macaroons, but they were… very expensive. His tongue might turn to gold once he ate it. “I tried making tea of every edible plant you can think of. Most of them turned out disgusting.” Hyungwon made a face as if just the memory of the taste of his tea toils made his stomach churn. “Artichoke tea was particularly revolting.”

Changkyun burst into laughter, literally cackling with it. Hyungwon laughed along, eyes sparkling, his entire face lit up with mirth. Changkyun had never seen anything so lovely.

Once their laughter died down, Changkyun said, “You know… I think this is the first time I’m seeing you - the real you.”

Hyungwon blinked, tilting his head to the side in a silent question. “The real me?”

“Yes. I feel like you wear this mask of confidence most of the time, perhaps to protect yourself, to make yourself seem like an untouchable being and avoid getting hurt, and today— you’re not wearing that mask.”

Hyungwon looked down at his tea, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he considered the words. “You said you wanted to get to know me, but— you already do.”

“Or maybe you’re more transparent than you think you are,” Changkyun said back.

Hyungwon gave him an unconvinced look. “No, I’m really not. You just have this bizarre way of reading me as if I were a picture book.”

“The pictures are very pretty, it’s a nice incentive.”

“You are an idiot,” Hyungwon stated, deadpan, before motioning with his hand. “Go on, try the macaroon.”

Changkyun narrowed his eyes suspiciously, first at Hyungwon and then at the macaroon in his hand; it was a muted shade of yellow. He took a deep breath, not sure what to expect as that was likely the most expensive thing he’d ever ingested, but he boldly went ahead and gave it a bite.

Oh.  _ Oh _ .

“Oh my god,” Changkyun said around his mouthful of macaroon, making Hyungwon laugh. “This is  _ so  _ good.”

“I thought you’d like it. Eat as much as you want, there’s plenty more where this came from,” Hyungwon said, taking a sip of his tea. “I’d advise you to leave some room to try the other foods in there, though.”

“Oh, trust me, there’s room for everything.”

Again, Hyungwon laughed; it was close to becoming Changkyun’s favorite sound, only losing to the sound of Hyungwon’s voice when he used that soothing, gentle tone that never failed to make him feel light in the head.

After that, they just— talked. About anything and everything and nothing.

Hyungwon told Changkyun about all the places he visited during his world tour, and Changkyun told Hyungwon about some memorable heists he’d pulled off in the past. He learned Hyungwon couldn’t eat spicy food, much like himself, and he found that they had a very similar sense of humor. He was delighted to hear of all the ways Hyungwon tried to make Guhn’s life miserable whenever he made him upset, be it with putting laxatives in his bottles of brandy or setting spiders loose inside his closet. Changkyun told him about his friendship with Jooheon, and mentioned he was working at the circus.

“The circus?” Hyungwon said. “Guhn is making me attend this circus’s opening night this weekend. What a coincidence.”

“You will be there?” Changkyun asked, eyes lighting up. In his mind he was already envisioning a sappy circus date, with him walking around with Hyungwon playing games at the carnival, winning silly prizes for him and laughing. Ugh, he already hated the softy he was becoming. Not enough to stop, though. He tried to ignore the fact that Guhn would be there to ruin everything, for the moment. “I— I would love to see you there, if that’s something you want.”

Hyungwon smiled down at the ground, cheeks tinted pink. Changkyun was already plenty aware he was done for, but that— that really drove the point home. He was epically done for. Done for in mythical proportions.

“Yes,” Hyungwon said. “I’ll see you there.”

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!♡ if you're enjoying my story so far, please consider leaving **kudos**! it's just one click and it'll do wonders for my morale, because- it's been pretty low. my motivation's been [insert sad trumpet noises here] and by leaving kudos i'll know you're out there and it'll help boost my confidence so. yes. please. help an insecure writer out.
> 
> i'm super excited about the next chapter, please look forward to it!♡
> 
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	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for implied abuse, a little violence, terrible decision-making, too much sass, and dumbassery
> 
> enjoy!♡

◦

While Minhyuk enjoyed making money, he didn’t enjoy wearing his costume. He was fine with the headpiece, felt that the red satin headscarf complimented his features, and he was also fine with lining his eyes with kohl - it made him feel mysterious and attractive, and that was always a plus. The rest of the outfit, though, felt a little too over the top even for his standards.

And the sequins that lined the collar of his shirt itched something awful.

He’d been working ever since they opened the grounds at sunset, and that had been a good three hours prior, so Minhyuk decided to take a break; the opening performance of the circus would begin within the hour, so it was as good a time as any.

The place was packed, though; he had a very long night ahead of him, thus he would make the best he could out of his break. Eat something at one of the kiosks, maybe find somewhere relatively quiet to take a nap. Or watch the performance he’d only seen the rehearsals for - seeing the full spectacle would certainly be worth it, as it always was.

Of course, as if some punishment had been rained down upon him at the mere thought of enjoying his recess, Minhyuk spotted Jooheon coming over just as he was locking the chest that contained all his props. Maybe if he didn’t make eye contact, Jooheon would just walk by and not stop to greet him. Maybe he’d get lucky that night and wouldn’t need to embarrass himself in front of Jooheon, something that had been happening all too much - Minhyuk had never been the epitome of grace, but he’d never been  _ that _ clumsy before. Tripping on his own feet, dropping whatever he was carrying, stumbling, bumping into things. 

Was it too much to ask for one night of peace? One night where he could keep his dignity intact, just one night without any—

“Minhyuk, hi,” Jooheon said, stopping at his stall on his way to the main tent. Minhyuk startled but, thankfully, didn’t drop anything. This time.

“Hi!” he chirped in response, managing to smile somehow. Looking up to meet Jooheon’s eyes, however, he noticed he wasn’t alone; next to him, was a shorter man with messy black hair and a coat that looked a little too big for him. He was distracted, peering around at the crowd as if searching for someone.

Jooheon noticed Minhyuk looking at his friend and scrambled to make the introductions, “A-ah, Minhyuk, this is Changkyun.”

At the mention of his name, Changkyun turned to them again and awkwardly stretched out a hand to shake Minhyuk’s. Minhyuk humored him and shook his hand. “Ah, hello. It’s nice to finally meet you, Jooheon talks about you a lot.”

Minhyuk didn’t fail to notice how Jooheon elbowed his friend in the ribs.

“He does, huh?” Minhyuk asked, teasing, glancing over at Jooheon; his cheeks were rosy. “He talks about you a lot as well.”

“Whatever he told you is probably true,” Changkyun quipped, which made Minhyuk laugh. He liked Jooheon’s friend already. Soon enough he was looking around again, searching for… whatever it was he’d been searching for. “Say, have you seen a tall young man with pearl-white hair around?”

Oh. So that’s what—  _ who _ he was seeking so avidly. “I’m afraid not.”

Jooheon groaned and rolled his eyes. “Can you stop thinking about your medium for two seconds?”

That caught Minhyuk’s curiosity right away. “Medium?”

“He has a name,” Changkyun said, his tone betraying a feeling of repetition as if he’d told Jooheon that same thing countless times before and was now just reciting a well-worn line. “And he said he would be here.”

“I hope he’s not here,” Jooheon said, making a face. “He creeps the living soul out of me.”

“I’ll protect you, my honey,” Minhyuk said, batting his eyelashes at Jooheon. He was expecting him to tell him off like usual, but Jooheon just blushed and ducked his head. Minhyuk decided to breeze past it - if he addressed that reaction, he was fairly sure he would throw up with the way his stomach was churning with nerves. “So, a medium, huh? Have a bit of a mash on him, Changkyun?”

Changkyun snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

Minhyuk arched an eyebrow and grinned at him. “Didn’t even try to deny it, how very brave of you.”

“Not really,” Changkyun said, glancing at Minhyuk with a smug smile on his lips before he looked away at the passersby again. “Jooheon already mentioned to me that you’re like us. No point denying it if we’re all in the same boat.”

Minhyuk turned to Jooheon then, finding that his ears had gone red too, to match his cheeks. “Is that so?” Jooheon was avoiding his gaze with such intent that it was almost funny; also refreshing, considering Minhyuk had been doing his share of Avoid-Looking-At-Jooheon lately. “Well, I haven’t seen anyone with pearl-white hair, not anyone young, anyway,” Minhyuk reiterated as he turned back to Changkyun. “I can keep an eye out if you want.”

“That’s alright,” Changkyun said, again tearing his eyes away from the crowd to look at Minhyuk. “He’s here somewhere. I can feel it.”

Jooheon’s face twisted into an almost disgusted expression. Or maybe ‘horrified’ was a closer description. “You can  _ feel _ it?”

“I can,” Changkyun confirmed. “He’ll be here any moment now.”

“Maybe I should make myself scarce while I still have the chance then, I’m not eager to see him again.”

“How can you feel it?” Minhyuk had to ask. “Are you a medium too?”

Changkyun cackled at that, for some reason. “Me? A medium? Not a chance, I’m not even sure I believe in the supernatural.” Changkyun looked around again, craning his neck and getting on his tiptoes, trying to see further into the crowd. “No, no, he’s the one who talks to ghosts and sees the future. I can only tell he’s around.”

“But how can you tell?”

“It feels like—” Changkyun started, face scrunching up as if in deep thought as he considered the best way to explain. “Do you know how sometimes you can just tell it’s going to rain? The day might be sunny, but you just know the weather is about to change.”

“Yes, I’ve felt something similar before,” Minhyuk admitted after a moment of trying to remember. “The air shifts, it seems.”

“Yes! It’s something like that, though that feels like an understatement; I don’t know how else to explain it, though.”

“Can we get going?” Jooheon asked, a breath away from downright whining. “I don’t want to see him.”

“I was about to head inside to watch the performance,” Minhyuk said. He could be Jooheon’s Knight-In-Ridiculous-Costume for a change, even if it meant just accompanying him somewhere else to avoid meeting someone he didn’t like. “I can keep you company while Changkyun looks for his medium.”

Jooheon turned to stare at him, surprised but wary. Minhyuk deserved that distrust, in retrospect; he shouldn’t have teased Jooheon so much, shouldn’t have made so many passes at him, or joked in the crude manner he had. He regretted it now, when he only wished to have Jooheon close to him, not for any ulterior motive other than enjoying his presence.

Served him right that Jooheon didn’t trust him.

Jooheon fidgeted where he stood, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, his gaze bouncing everywhere except to Minhyuk’s general direction. Minhyuk just waited, at a loss of what else he could do or say. Changkyun glanced at them, from Jooheon to Minhyuk and back to Jooheon, a little hitch between his brows as he clearly noticed something was going on between them - he didn’t make any comments on it, though, bless his heart.

Maybe he should say something akin to ‘nevermind, see you later’ and leave, but that would be rude. He didn’t want to be rude to Jooheon, no matter how every single cell in his body was shouting at him to go, get far away from Jooheon as possible before he did or said something stupid again. Alas, he didn’t go anywhere - he stood there, like an idiot, waiting for Jooheon to make up his mind and give him an answer. Rejecting it would be easy, he had a plausible excuse in Changkyun, could just say ‘I shouldn’t leave my friend alone’, but Jooheon— didn’t.

Maybe they were both idiots, Minhyuk was slowly concluding; two idiots, perfect for each other.

He forced himself to look away from Jooheon the moment the thought crossed his mind.

As fate would have it, Jooheon didn’t have the time to finish formulating a reply. Minhyuk noticed Changkyun perking up from the corner of his sight, entire face lifting with obvious excitement, spine becoming straighter; it was a minute change, barely noticeable, but hardly anything ever escaped Minhyuk’s practiced eyes.

He turned towards the direction Changkyun had been staring at just as a pair of tall, handsome young men approached. The tallest— or,  _ slightly taller _ one had a weasel-like face and platinum blonde hair, long down to his shoulders, smoothed back and kept away from his face in a half-ponytail. He carried himself in a rather regal manner, nose held up high and a little smirk on his lips. The second one, the one Minhyuk instantly knew to be the one Changkyun had been looking for, the medium, had, as stated earlier, pearly-white hair, wavy and fluffy-looking, and his facial features were striking in an unusual way - large eyes, round nose, full lips. He could tell why Changkyun seemed so enamored with him, at least appearance-wise.

Both were dressed in semi-casual outfits, though it obviously tipped more towards the ‘casual’ than otherwise - why would people like them, filthy rich, the elite, the crème de la crème of society, bother wearing their nicer clothes to a circus, entertainment more fit to the gentry, the peasants, the lower class? - but even so, they stuck out like a pair of sore thumbs in the crowd. They wouldn’t be able to fit in even if they tried, which they obviously didn’t.

Minhyuk had them both all figured out.

They were coming over but not looking at them. Oh, no. Weasel-Face had his eyes on the sign hanging atop Minhyuk’s stall, the one that said ‘FORTUNE TELLER’. Supposed-Medium, on the other hand, was walking one step behind Weasel-Face, stealing subtle little glances at Changkyun and fighting back a smile.

It was sort of cute, Minhyuk could admit to that - what a very strange couple they made. He had to wonder at the sort of circumstance that would allow those two to meet, because they obviously didn’t run in the same circles. He figured he could just ask Changkyun - he would probably give out the information without much fuss, judging from the way he looked at Supposed-Medium. Minhyuk had seen that look many times, and often it came accompanied by loose tongues eager to speak at length about the objects of their affections.

Or, if Changkyun proved a tougher nut to crack than it first met the eye, he could ask Jooheon about it; Jooheon was loyal to a fault, but he cracked quite easily under pressure. From the way Jooheon acted around Minhyuk, so cagey and suspicious, getting him to talk would be very simple.

He heard Jooheon whine and noticed he’d shifted a bit where he stood to hide behind Changkyun. “Wha— Why are they coming this way?”

Minhyuk saw that as a chance to protect Jooheon and also moved from where he was standing, his best salesman-smile on his face as he put himself in front of his table and, by proxy, Jooheon.

“Good evening,” Weasel-Face greeted, a self-satisfied smile on his face. He looked at Minhyuk up and down, not even trying to be discreet about it. “You are the Fortune Teller, I take it?”

“Yes, that’s me,” Minhyuk replied, still wearing his polite smile. “I’m afraid my stall is closed at the moment, if you were hoping for a reading.”

“Oh, no, no,” Weasel-Face replied with a chuckle. Minhyuk didn’t know what was so funny. “I have a Fortune Teller of my own.”

He then gestured to Supposed-Medium behind him, who was clearly not paying attention to that conversation - he was much more interested in making eyes at Changkyun from Weasel-Face’s back.

“Ah, I see,” Minhyuk replied, used to dealing with such situations enough that his expression didn’t change even a little despite how much he wanted to bristle. “It’s always a pleasure to meet a fellow psychic.”

“Indeed. But pardon my manners, I didn’t introduce myself,” Weasel-Face said, “I am Mr. Guhn. This here is Hyungwon.”

Supposed-Medium, who had now been properly introduced as Hyungwon, heard his name being mentioned and for the first time looked at Minhyuk, also up and down as if making an entire opinion of him through that first glance alone. Minhyuk decided right then and there he didn’t like either of those two.

“I am Minhyuk,” he introduced himself too, for the sake of being polite, “it’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Guhn.”

“Likewise,” Guhn - who was supposed to be named Weasel-Face because it suited him that much better - chirped, his grin widening in such a way that Minhyuk became worried. That was probably the exact same thing Little Red Riding Hood saw just before the Big Bad Wolf chomped her down. “As I was walking over, I had the most delightful idea.”

Hyungwon glared at the back of Guhn’s head when those words came out of his mouth. Changkyun, meanwhile, had quietly made his way around them and was now standing next to Hyungwon, close enough to reach him but still far away enough that it wouldn’t look suspicious. When Hyungwon glared at Guhn, Changkyun looked up at him with some concern. Changkyun seemed to know a lot about their dynamics - it didn’t do anything to quell Minhyuk’s curiosity.

“You shouldn’t spring your delightful ideas onto people you’ve just met,” Hyungwon said, and Minhyuk caught a slight hint of disdain in his tone.

“But if not now, when?” Guhn retorted before he turned to Minhyuk again. “I think my idea could be fun. A game.”

“A game?” Minhyuk echoed, an eyebrow raised. He was liking this conversation less and less.

“Yes!” Guhn confirmed, barely containing his glee. Hyungwon shifted closer to Changkyun, the movement so subtle Minhyuk almost missed it. “A friendly competition between two psychics.”

At the word ‘competition’, Hyungwon looked at Minhyuk up and down again, the quality of his gaze more analytical this time, as if he was measuring Minhyuk, sizing him up to decide if he was a worthy adversary. Minhyuk liked him even less.

“You shouldn’t set our new friend up for failure like this,” Hyungwon said once he was done with his analysis. Minhyuk was unable to keep from bristling this time around.

“Oh, come  _ on _ , would it kill you not to be such a bore for once?” Guhn griped at Hyungwon, who merely rolled his eyes. Changkyun had moved closer to him as well, tugging at Hyungwon’s coat sleeve with one hand as if trying to communicate something to him. Minhyuk didn’t even try to guess what it could be. “It’s just a bit of fun. What do you say?” Guhn asked Minhyuk, and something in his face said ‘you better accept this, or else’.

Guhn wasn’t in a position to punish Minhyuk for rejecting his offer, couldn’t really do anything against him, but Minhyuk’s pride was on the line - Jooheon was right behind him, and he would  _ not _ have his honor dragged through the dirt in front of Jooheon. Sure, Jooheon already knew Minhyuk wasn’t a real psychic, but he had a reputation to uphold.

And those two had pissed him off as well, so—

“I think a game would be fun,” Minhyuk declared, and his smile probably had a manic quality to it but he was way past the point of caring. He felt Jooheon pulling on the back of his clothes frantically, trying to get his attention, but Minhyuk ignored it. He wasn’t backing down on that. Turning to face Hyungwon, he said, “I’m quite confident in my abilities, but I understand if you don’t feel up to putting yours to the test.”

Changkyun sighed and looked over at Minhyuk as if saying ‘what have you done, you fool’. Jooheon made a strangled noise behind him. Guhn was resembling a child on Christmas morning.

Hyungwon stared at Minhyuk for a long moment, the line of his lips tense, before he smiled smugly at him. “I appreciate your concern regarding my comfort in showcasing my skills. I was merely hoping to spare you from it.” It was very hard for Minhyuk to keep smiling. “As you insist on accepting this— game, I suppose I have no choice but to take you up on it.”

“Don’t worry,” Minhyuk said, deciding to keep himself on his high horse for as long as he possibly could, “I’ll go easy on you.”

Hyungwon’s eyes sparkled in a way that was unnerving, and in a clear, matter-of-fact tone, he said, “I won’t.”

Minhyuk heard Jooheon whimper behind him in fear, saw the way Changkyun looked up at Hyungwon with a fond but exasperated look on his face, caught Guhn chuckling to himself from the corner of his eyes. It sure felt as if he’d just made a big mistake by accepting that challenge.

“Marvelous!” Guhn exclaimed. “We shall meet you after the performance is done, I believe there is not enough time to do it right now before it starts.”

“Wonderful, it’s settled,” Minhyuk agreed.

“We’ll see you later, then,” Guhn said and then turned to Hyungwon; Changkyun moved away from him just in time. “Come, Hyungwon, we should find our seats.”

“You go right ahead, I’d like to speak with Minhyuk here some more,” Hyungwon said, which was very obviously an excuse.

Guhn rolled his eyes but agreed. “Very well, don’t take too long.”

“Yes, yes, I’m aware you would wilt without my refreshing presence to water you,” Hyungwon deadpanned. A pity Minhyuk had already decided to dislike him, he appeared to be a funny guy.

Guhn ignored the quip and, after tipping his head at Minhyuk in a simple farewell, he walked right past them towards the main tent beyond. He completely ignored Jooheon and Changkyun’s presence, acted as if they weren’t there at all. What an ass.

The moment Guhn was out of sight, Changkyun huffed and said to Hyungwon, “You are terrible.”

Minhyuk expected Hyungwon to defend himself, or at least be annoyed at the jab, but he giggled as if Changkyun had given him a compliment. Odd.

“My pride was on the line, what did you expect me to do?” Hyungwon asked Changkyun.

“Take the high road, perhaps.”

“The high road is boring.”

“Whatever you say,” Changkyun concluded with a sigh. In a lower voice, he asked, “How is your headache?”

“It’s not too bad today, I’m alright,” Hyungwon replied. “I feel like that might change soon, though.”

Minhyuk had a thought that it was better not to listen in on their private conversation, but even as he tried to tune it out he kept on listening in. Who knows, it might give him an edge during the ‘competition’ later.

“Minhyuk,” Jooheon called his name in an urgent whisper, and only that worked to get him to stop eavesdropping.

“Yes, my honey?” Minhyuk asked once he turned around to face Jooheon, finding an expression of pure horror on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“What have you done?” Jooheon asked, glancing over Minhyuk’s shoulder at Hyungwon before looking at him again. “He talks to ghosts, Minhyuk.  _ Ghosts _ .”

“No such things as ghosts, honey,” Minhyuk said, hoping he sounded reassuring enough to ease Jooheon’s mind. “It’s going to be fine.”

“He’s not normal,” Jooheon’s whisper became even lower. “Be careful, I mean it.”

“Aw, my honey, are you worried about me?” Minhyuk asked, almost melting at the mere thought of Jooheon wanting to look out for him. Could it be? Jooheon considering Minhyuk at least a friend? He would be happy with just that, he didn’t ask for much.

“I—” Jooheon started but stopped talking immediately, his eyes widening at something behind Minhyuk.

Hyungwon had moved and stopped right next to Minhyuk, Changkyun close by as if he were Hyungwon’s shadow. Minhyuk immediately put his guard up again from where he’d been relaxed while talking to Jooheon.

“I should get going before Guhn decides to come to find me,” Hyungwon said, that forced politeness heavy in his voice. “If there is no chance later, let me tell you now - it’s nothing personal. I hope you have no hard feelings after our ‘game’.”

Minhyuk had to will himself not to scoff. “Certainly. I can say the same to you.”

The corners of Hyungwon’s lips twitched as if he wanted to laugh. Minhyuk wanted to slap him. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”

“Can you please play nice?” Changkyun asked. He had a hand on Hyungwon’s back, Minhyuk noticed - why couldn’t those two spend five seconds without touching each other? Disgusting. “Just because you know you’re going to win does not mean you should be an ass about it.”

Again, instead of getting mad as any normal person would, Hyungwon laughed at Changkyun’s dig. Minhyuk was growing more and more confused about the sort of relationship those two had. 

But, more importantly, he was very offended at how confident  _ both _ of them were that Minhyuk was going to lose.

“I’m standing right here,” Minhyuk reminded them, “and I have just as much of a chance of winning as he does.”

Changkyun grimaced as if saying ‘you really don’t’ and Hyungwon chortled. Jooheon was conspicuously quiet next to him, and Minhyuk wasn’t sure he wanted to know if he agreed - he probably did. That was the worse thing: Jooheon not having any faith in him.

“I’ll see you later,” Hyungwon said, referring to all of them but looking at Changkyun, specifically.

“Alright,” Changkyun replied. The way those two looked at each other made Minhyuk want to vomit; he really hoped he didn’t look at Jooheon like that, if he did, he would personally take on the task of punching himself in the face.

Hyungwon turned around to leave but stopped after taking only one step, his eyes falling on Jooheon who was still trying to hide behind Minhyuk. Hyungwon blinked at him and smiled calmly. Jooheon tensed up behind him.

And then Hyungwon leaned closer to Jooheon, in a way that was uncomfortably  _ too _ close and whispered, “Boo.”

Jooheon made a noise of distress and jumped back, hiding behind Minhyuk like a frightened child. Hyungwon walked away still laughing at his own ‘joke’.

Minhyuk sighed and turned around to lace one arm around Jooheon’s shoulders protectively. He was shaking like a leaf. “There, there, he’s gone.”

“You really don’t have to be afraid of him, Jooheon,” Changkyun said, although he sounded vaguely apologetic. “Hyungwon is a really good person once you get to know him.”

“No offense, but he sounded like an arrogant twat to me,” Minhyuk declared. Changkyun cackled again; anytime he did so, Minhyuk couldn’t help but think he sounded like an old witch.

“That’s because he  _ is _ an arrogant twat, but trust me, there’s a lot more to him than that. He’s kind, generous, caring. The ‘arrogant twat’ is just the external layer. He wears it like an armor.”

Minhyuk scoffed. “An armor against what? He sounds as if he has the whole world on his palm.”

“If you think like that, then that only means he’s doing it right,” Changkyun said, cheeky, and motioned for them to get going. “Come on, we don’t want to be late.”

They began walking together towards the main tent, and Minhyuk took the opportunity to whisper in Jooheon’s ear, “What the hell does he see in him? It’s  _ so _ weird.”

“I have no idea, but I’m happy you also think this is weird,” Jooheon said, still looking pouty but not as scared. “And Minhyuk?”

“Yes, my honey?”

“You really shouldn’t have accepted that game.”

◦ ◦ ◦

Luck seemed to be on their side, for a change. Earlier that same day, they had finally found a small apartment by the river to rent, a tiny one-bedroom that sat atop a general store; the owner of the store would be their landlady, a kind, chubby-faced old woman who was more than happy to allow three grown men to occupy her tiny apartment, something that many property owners would be hesitant to do. It was just big enough for them, and they didn’t need much - they were used to having little, so space wouldn’t be hard to manage. Only the bare essentials - kitchen and bathroom supplies, a proper bed for Hoseok, and enough space on the floor for Kihyun and Hyunwoo to put down some blankets to sleep on. The rest, they could figure out as they went.

Hoseok, also, had been doing as well as he could be the past few days, his coughing fits few and far between, and no sudden fevers. The night sweats were still, unfortunately, a thing they had to deal with, and his weight dropped some more, but, other than that, Hoseok was showcasing more energy than he had in a long time.

Kihyun blamed it on his excitement about being out of the apartment for a change. Hoseok wanted to do something else other than lying around in bed all day so bad that he was willing himself to be well for the sole purpose of attending the circus that evening. That probably meant his health would take a plunge after the night was over, so Kihyun knew he would have to steel himself for the trials that were to come.

For the time being, though, he tried to relax and enjoy his time out with both his loves. They hadn’t gone on a date in— he didn’t even remember how long. The last time had been before Hoseok became ill, and that was a couple of years back. It felt like ages ago, centuries; so much had happened since. It felt unreal to be there, playing games at a carnival, both Hyunwoo and Hoseok by his side, laughing and having fun, seemingly without a care in the world.

It was hard, though, to get out of his head and forget he could lose one of the loves of his life any day, without a warning. Hoseok could be doing fine that day, but the next— there was no way of knowing. His illness had its ups and downs, got better and worse for no apparent reason, and with the weather getting colder and his weight dropping so fast—

No, he would not think about it. Not that night. That night was about them having fun together, not— not thinking about ‘what ifs’. Kihyun had to enjoy the present for a change, instead of concerning himself over the future.

They had arrived early at the circus, far earlier than the scheduled time for the main event, so they could enjoy themselves at the carnival for a while. It was easy to forget about their situation when he was focused on one of the many games, all three of them getting competitive and far too into the challenges, but during the moments where they were walking from one stall to the next, Kihyun’s mind always circled back to that one thought.

_ This might be the last time _ .

Hyunwoo, he noticed, also got quiet during those little in-betweens. Kihyun assumed it was for the very same reasons as he did, but he didn’t ask. Wouldn’t ask. It didn’t matter, in the end - it was what it was.

Hoseok, on the other hand, was just glad to be out and about. If he noticed any of the small drops in Kihyun and Hyunwoo’s moods, he said nothing, didn’t address it, didn’t acknowledge it. Maybe he just wanted to feel normal for a change and pretend he hadn’t contracted a potentially fatal disease, pretend he was only on a normal date with his two socially-unacceptable significant others, and that his only concern was not accidentally kissing either of them - which was very easy, Kihyun bitterly thought, since they hadn’t kissed Hoseok on the lips for long enough that they were used to not doing it.

And there he was again, thinking about what he shouldn’t be thinking.

“I think the main performance is about to start,” Hyunwoo said, pointing over at the main tent of the circus, the eye-catching red and white stripes making it rather discernible even with all the commotion around. The crowd making their way inside the tent was enough confirmation of Hyunwoo’s words.

“We should get going or there won’t be any seats left for us,” Kihyun agreed, urging his lovers forward with impatient gestures of his hands.

Hoseok promptly hooked his free arm around Hyunwoo’s, his other one busy holding a stuffed teddy bear Hyunwoo had won for him in one of the game kiosks. They’d won a number of prizes since their arrival, and that bear was the only thing Hoseok chose to keep - the rest they gave away to children who would certainly have more fun with the toys than they would. 

They huddled together as they made their way through the crowd, Kihyun and Hoseok hanging on each of Hyunwoo’s arms so they wouldn’t get separated, and it was a relief when the crowd dispersed once they were inside the tent proper. The strong scent of sawdust hit Kihyun a bit too suddenly and he coughed, his throat itching with it, which earned a concerned look from Hyunwoo; he dismissed with a smile and a shake of his head. It wasn’t  _ that _ sort of cough.

Not yet, anyway.

_ Don’t think about it _ , he told himself as they weaved their way through the masses, Hyunwoo looking around for empty seats for them from his advantage point - being the tallest of the three of them, tasks like that usually fell on his shoulders. They made their way up the stands, deciding to take a seat on the very back row, when, halfway there, Kihyun looked around and spotted the back of a rather familiar pearly-white head.

His footsteps faltered, his stomach twisted into knots; he was not expecting to see Hyungwon at a circus, of all places, his presence more fit to a fancy restaurant or the grand theater. His first encounter with him was still fresh in his memory - there hadn’t been a day he didn’t think of what he’d said about Hoseok’s limited time, the prediction still haunting his every waking moment.

The tip about the hibiscus tea, however, had been a good one.

Hyunwoo, noticing Kihyun had stopped walking, turned around to face him with a frown. “Something wrong, Ki?”

Hoseok had also stopped and was looking at him in a mix of curiosity and concern, so Kihyun was quick to force a smile and say, “No, nothing’s wrong. I just see one of our patrons, I should greet him.”

“Oh, alright,” Hoseok said, looking around casually as if wanting to guess who it was but trying not to be obvious about it, “we’ll save you a seat.”

“Don’t take too long, the show’s about to start,” Hyunwoo advised and, giving Kihyun’s hand an affectionate squeeze, let him go to continue climbing their way to the grandstand with Hoseok.

“It’ll only take a minute,” Kihyun said before he made his way back down, all the way to the ringside where the richer folk would be sitting. The best seats, the best view, of course Hyungwon and Mr. Guhn would be there.

Kihyun reached them just as they were about to enter the gate that separated the ringside from the rest of the stands, and Hyungwon, likely sensing his approach, raised his head to meet his gaze.

His lips quirked up in a polite smile. “Ah, Kihyun, it’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Kihyun said, bowing his head minutely, once for Hyungwon and once for Mr. Guhn once he turned around upon noticing his presence. “Mr. Guhn, hello.”

“If it isn’t Mr. Yoo,” Guhn greeted with a wolfish smile. “I’ve been meaning to send you a message, the items you’ve sold us are all of incredible quality. We look forward to doing business with you again, sometime soon.”

The businessman in Kihyun perked up at that. “Of course, you have but to call for me.”

“We absolutely will. Hyungwon is running out of his precious tea,” Guhn teased. Hyungwon sighed but didn’t try to argue the point. “It is very good to see you again.”

“You as well,” Kihyun said, then turned to Hyungwon. “I was hoping to have a word with you, if it’s not much trouble?”

“Absolutely,” Hyungwon replied, before saying to Guhn, “I’ll be right over.”

Guhn gave Hyungwon a dubious glance but, after nodding at Kihyun in a silent farewell, continued on his way into the closed-off ringside to find his seat. Hyungwon waited for him to leave before he focused his attention on Kihyun.

“How can I help you?”

“I simply wished to thank you,” Kihyun said, deciding to go right to the point; the show was about to start, he didn’t have time to trade pleasantries or make small talk. “Your advice about the hibiscus tea was very helpful.”

“It was no trouble,” Hyungwon said, his smile turning more genuine. Kihyun thought he had a pretty smile when he wasn’t forcing it. “Have you come here tonight with your—”

“Brothers,” Kihyun finished the sentence for him, and they traded a secret knowing smile.

“Yes, your ‘brothers’.”

“I have, they are— right there,” Kihyun said once he spotted them and motioned towards the grandstand, where Hyunwoo and Hoseok had already taken their seats. “One with the blue scarf and the other one in the grey coat.”

“Mhm, I see them,” Hyungwon confirmed. “You’re doing a good job - I can barely tell they’re sick.”

Kihyun frowned. “Only Hoseok is sick.”

Hyungwon arched his eyebrow, smile gone from his features. “Are you sure?”

It felt as if the ground had opened under his feet and he was falling into a pit of darkness. Kihyun swallowed, blinked away the shock, and said, “Y-yes, I’m sure.”

Hyungwon watched him for a moment, eyes slightly-narrowed as if deep in thought. “One of them is keeping a secret.”

Kihyun was beginning to regret coming to speak to Hyungwon - those types of sudden, earth-shaking predictions were far too overwhelming and he wasn’t in a position to properly process them, not when he was in public, when both his loves could see him.

“Yes,” he finally confirmed. “Do you know what it is?”

“I do,” Hyungwon replied with ease, “but you shouldn’t be asking ‘what’. You should be asking ‘why’.”

Kihyun inhaled a shaky breath. “Is Hyunwoo— is he sick too?”

“Would you believe me if I said he is?”

Kihyun scowled at the ground and, after a couple of seconds considering it, he shook his head. “No. No, I wouldn’t. He hasn’t shown any symptoms, he’s been completely fine. We would have noticed.” He raised his eyes to meet Hyungwon’s again before he continued. “And the last time we met, you said the tea was only for Hoseok.”

“He’s the one who needed it the most,” Hyungwon replied, tilting his head sideways as he watched Kihyun intently. It made him very nervous, that gaze. “He still is. It doesn’t, however, mean that your other ‘brother’ is well.”

Kihyun shook his head, denying it. “No, that’s— he’s not sick.”

He heard Hyungwon sigh, just as the lights dimmed inside the tent. They both looked up at the same time, only to confirm their suspicions - the show was about to begin.

“Our time has run out, it seems,” Hyungwon declared, locking his gaze with Kihyun’s once more, “not that I think I would have been able to convince you even if we had hours to spare. When you are ready to hear what I have to say, don’t hesitate to contact me. I might just be able to help.” Hyungwon then nodded at Kihyun as a goodbye, much like Guhn had done earlier, and began making his way towards his own seat. “Do enjoy the show. I hear they have a lion.”

Kihyun stood there for a few seconds longer, watching as Hyungwon walked further and further away, before he finally snapped out of it and hurried up the stands to join his loves.

Hyunwoo wasn’t sick. He absolutely wasn’t, he was as strong as he’d always been, he wasn’t losing weight, didn’t have any fevers, no night sweats, no coughing. He’d been stressed, sure, and that was affecting him as much as it affected Kihyun, they were both exhausted, but to go from there to him being sick—

No. Absolutely not, he wasn’t sick. Hyungwon was wrong. Hyunwoo was not sick.

He finally reached the last row of seats and plopped down on the space next to Hoseok, his heart hammering so hard inside his chest Kihyun could hear it pounding on his eardrums even above the cacophony around them, the people cheering and screaming, the ringmaster giving his opening speech down in the center of the ring, the sounds from the carnival outside, music, children. His heart was louder than all of it and it only served to make him more nervous.

“Ki?” Hoseok called, placing a hand on his knee. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Kihyun jolted at the touch and jerkily shook his head, managing a brittle smile that was not at all convincing. “N-no, nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“Ki…” Hoseok breathed out his nickname, frustration lacing his tone. “You’re shaking.”

“It’s— the person I was greeting, it was the medium I mentioned to you once,” he said. Hoseok’s expression shifted to one of realization. “Speaking to him is very upsetting.”

“Did he say something bad?”

Kihyun shook his head, keeping his gaze ahead at the ring. He didn’t want to look at Hoseok - he would break if he did. “No, no. He just makes me nervous.”

“Why don’t you sit between me and Hyunwoo?” Hoseok suggested. “Might help you feel better. Safer.”

Kihyun sighed and nodded, heart tight with adoration and grief, and they both exchanged seats in a rather efficient way. Hyunwoo, who had been paying attention to the ring, looked up at the both of them with confusion, but didn’t ask anything; it probably meant Kihyun had somehow managed to keep his expression neutral.

Once settled in his new seat, Kihyun took a deep, long breath, ignoring how the scent of sawdust made his nose itch, and huddled closer to Hyunwoo, Hoseok snuggling up to him in turn, in such a way that it seemed as if they were only trying to fight off the night chill if anyone was to look their way. Kihyun could still see Hyungwon all the way down in the ringside, pale hair visible even in the dim light.

He was lying. There was nothing wrong with Hyunwoo.

Kihyun told himself that a hundred times before he could finally pay attention to the performance before him without wanting to scream.

◦ ◦ ◦

A world of color and sound and movement before him, but Changkyun couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the figure sitting all the way across the ring - much like Hyungwon himself couldn’t look away from Changkyun, both of them lacking any interest in the performance and more focused on stealing glances and making faces at each other. It was so very stupid. He  _ felt _ so very stupid, yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

Jooheon had already given up trying to get him to pay attention to what was happening in the ring - although he did force himself to focus when Jooheon’s elephant ‘friend’ was brought on, knowing it meant a lot to him, but he went right back to looking at Hyungwon once Barya, The Elephant was done with her number.

Minhyuk, on the other hand, was still scowling and looking like a condensed storm cloud ready to start shooting out lightning. Changkyun couldn’t blame him - he was aware that Hyungwon could be difficult, but he also knew that it would all be downhill from there. He already knew Hyungwon would not forego his holier-than-thou attitude, and from the little he’d seen from Minhyuk, he would also not back down in his attempts at defending his ego.

Hyungwon was going to win that ‘friendly competition’, no doubt in his mind. Hyungwon would win, Minhyuk would lose, they would trade all sorts of jabs during the game, and both of them would likely be steaming from their ears with rage by the end of the night.

It would be glorious.

Entertaining as that would be, though, Changkyun would still rather live out his carnival date fantasy; he wanted to go play games with Hyungwon and win silly prizes for him, wanted to walk around holding his hand, share cotton-candy and complain about how sticky their fingers got. He wanted to just spend time with Hyungwon, be around him, have fun and laugh with him, without having to worry about being found out or stressing about all the unexplainable weirdness that surrounded their every interaction.

Guhn was there, though. Ruining everything.

Everything would be so much better, easier, if he was out of the picture.

Maybe he should do what he did best and— simply steal Hyungwon away. Sneak into the mansion one night, take Hyungwon, and run as far and as fast as he could. Hyungwon was skinny, looked light enough that Changkyun could carry him on his back like a potato sack, so Hyungwon agreeing to it was not exactly a requirement.

Changkyun caught himself before that line of thought began looking too appealing. What was he even doing, planning to kidnap someone—

The scarier part was that, for a second, he truly considered doing just that. That he was willing to cross every line for something he never spared a second thought until only over a month before. He was losing it. His thoughts, his urges, that constant craving in the back of his mind— he was starting to be scared of himself. Of that part of him he never knew existed.

He had to wonder if Hyungwon felt like that, too. Hyungwon always seemed to be so sure of himself, so in control - it felt strange to think of him going through what Changkyun himself was experiencing, the long nights awake staring at the ceiling going through their every interaction in his mind, imagining silly little scenarios, planning and lamenting an entire future that would never be. What a frightful thought it was, to think he could be falling deeper and deeper, while Hyungwon’s feelings for him were not as strong.

No use thinking about that; if he wanted to know, he was certain he could ask Hyungwon directly and receive a straightforward answer.

Changkyun was so turned inwards to his musings that he only realized the performance was over when Jooheon nudged him, the thunderous sounds of applause finally breaking through his perception and thoroughly snapping him out of that mad reverie. He clapped along with the rest of the crowd despite having no idea what he was clapping for, his eyes focusing on Hyungwon in less than a second. Hyungwon, too, was taking part in the ovation and looking as lost as Changkyun. They both grinned at each other when their eyes met.

“I guess I should head back to my stall,” he heard Minhyuk say from the other side of Jooheon. “I have a competition to win.”

Changkyun perked up at the reminder. “Yes, let’s go! Should we bet on it?”

Jooheon looked at him as he’d just said the stupidest thing ever. “No, we should  _ not _ bet on it.”

“Come  _ on _ , it’ll be fun!”

“Absolutely not,” Jooheon insisted, the three of them making their way out from the side of the stands, where they’d been watching the performance from - they were there for free, and seats were for paying customers, so they had to watch the performance standing up. Changkyun didn’t mind.

“Please, don’t bet on it,” Minhyuk asked, whiny. “I already know neither of you would bet on me, at least let me keep a smidge of my dignity.”

“I’m really sorry to say,” Changkyun told Minhyuk, placing a hand on his shoulder, “but there is no way you’re going to win. Hyungwon is— he’s  _ that _ good at what he does.”

Minhyuk swallowed hard, throat moving up and down. He was nervous, Changkyun could tell, but still trying to save face. “I’m quite good at what I do, too. Maybe just as good as he is.”

“He’s  _ scary _ , Minhyuk,” Jooheon said this time. “I’ll be rooting for you but I still think you should call this whole thing off.”

“Well, I’m not scared of him,” Minhyuk declared proudly. “I’ll prove his ‘psychic’ abilities are as much bullshit as mine are.”

Changkyun couldn’t hold in a snort. “Good luck with that, I’m a skeptic and even I can’t explain the things he does.”

“I’m still convinced he’s a witch,” Jooheon said.

“Stop trying to scare me!” Minhyuk snapped just as they reached his stall. “Witches aren’t real and I’ve never met a single self-proclaimed ‘psychic’ who was the real deal. Whatever he can do, I’m absolutely certain I can do too.”

Changkyun managed to bite back his laughter this time, deciding Minhyuk had heard enough of how impossible to win against Hyungwon it would be; insisting on it would be overkill.

Minhyuk then turned around to look directly at Changkyun. “You seem to know him well. What should I know about him before starting the game?”

Changkyun arched an eyebrow. “You— want me to help you cheat?”

“Yes! If I’m in such a disadvantage you can’t stop talking about it, then it’s fair that I get an edge.”

“I could tell you his entire life story and you’d still not be able to win,” Changkyun said, honest. “Besides, I’m not sure what I could say that would give you an edge.”

“I don’t know, does he have a weakness? Is he particularly sensitive to a certain topic? Anything at all?”

Changkyun narrowed his eyes at Minhyuk, moved slightly back, away from him. “You want me to reveal my future lover’s secrets to you?”

“Oh, so you’re not lovers yet?” Minhyuk said and grinned. “That’s a start. I can work with that.”

Changkyun clamped his mouth shut, kicking himself in thoughts for a moment before he spoke again. “Don’t use this against him. I understand wanting to cheat, but this— I won’t let you use this as a wildcard to win a stupid game.”

Minhyuk huffed, clearly debating whether or not to insist on it for a few seconds, before saying, “If it’s just a stupid game, then help me win.”

“No,” Changkyun said, crossing his arms defensively. “No offense, you seem like a great guy, but my loyalty lies with Hyungwon. Even if that wasn’t the case, nothing I can tell you would help you win.”

Minhyuk made a strange noise in the back of his throat, a mix of frustration and anger, and hissed out the word “ _ Fine _ .”

Jooheon, who had been watching their discussion in silence, only sighed and shook his head. Changkyun could imagine what was going on in his mind. Probably something akin to ‘please, call this game off and let’s go home, away from the scary medium’. He wouldn’t go home, though, even if he could simply walk away - Jooheon was far too loyal, and Minhyuk was, from what Changkyun gathered from all the times Jooheon mentioned him, someone he considered a friend. Jooheon would stick to Minhyuk’s side through that entire competition, no matter how scared and uncomfortable he became.

Before either of them had a chance to add anything else to their argument, Changkyun caught the two familiar figures approaching and casually moved out of the way; the less he caught Guhn’s attention, the better.

For the time being, that is.

He caught Hyungwon’s eyes while he made his way to stand next to Jooheon, just behind Minhyuk, and gave him a sly wink. Hyungwon’s lips twitched with a clear urge to smile.

“Ah, good, you’re already here,” Guhn said, a gleeful little grin on his face. Changkyun wanted to punch it off of him.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Minhyuk replied, tone betraying nothing of the frustration he displayed just ten seconds prior. “We can begin,” he said and turned to Hyungwon, “unless you changed your mind.”

“On the contrary, I’m quite eager to get this over with,” Hyungwon said, not even pretending to be interested. Changkyun sighed; maybe it wouldn’t be as fun as he’d predicted, maybe that entire thing would take a turn for the worse and end in a veritable bloodbath.

He hoped it wouldn’t come to that - Hyungwon could win a psychic competition easily, but he would definitely lose in a physical fight. Maybe Changkyun would have to jump in to defend him, even. He was fine with it, he could be scrappy if needed. 

“Take a seat,” Minhyuk motioned to the chair opposite to his own, across the table, and Hyungwon gracefully sat down, crossing his long legs in that natural, nonchalant way he did.

Changkyun had chosen his position well - being behind Minhyuk and a little more to the right put Hyungwon in his direct line of sight, but didn’t put Changkyun himself in Guhn’s line of sight, meaning he could stare at Hyungwon as much as he wanted to without too high a risk of being caught. He would much rather be standing next to him, of course, to give him moral support - not because he needed it to win the competition, but because he figured Hyungwon would get annoyed very fast. He hoped it wouldn’t make his headache worse.

“Alright, what did you have in mind for this ‘game’?” Hyungwon asked Guhn, impatient.

“I thought we could start with a simple guessing challenge, as a warm-up,” Guhn said.

“I have some cards for that,” Minhyuk announced, moving towards his trunk to retrieve said cards.

Hyungwon raised an eyebrow. “Very well. The fact that you have all the details of the cards memorized and are able to tell which is which could be counted as cheating, but I will overlook it.”

Changkyun saw how Minhyuk’s movements stuttered for a moment - caught in the act.

“It’s the only deck of cards we have available at the moment,” Minhyuk said haughtily in return, as he took said deck from his trunk. “Shall I shuffle them?”

“Go ahead,” Hyungwon agreed.

Minhyuk took his seat across from Hyungwon, the worn deck of cards in his hands and a determined expression on his face. They stared at each other for a moment, a silent challenge, before Minhyuk began shuffling the cards deftly, easily, his eyes not once moving away from Hyungwon’s face. Hyungwon, on the other hand, just looked— bored.

Changkyun sighed and shook his head, the movement catching Hyungwon’s attention. He took the chance to mouth at him the words ‘play nice’, to which Hyungwon replied with a roll of his eyes and a single, barely noticeable nod.

“Five cards each?” Minhyuk asked.

“Sounds good,” Hyungwon replied, still sounding bored as Minhyuk distributed the cards, face down, and left the rest of the deck next to him on the table. “Now what? I guess your cards, you guess mine?”

“Let’s make it a little more interesting than that,” Guhn said, looking from Minhyuk to Hyungwon with that annoying smile on his face. “Each of you has five cards. Without looking, put them in a row in front of you. One will have to guess the exact order of all five of the other’s cards.”

Changkyun looked down at the cards on the table, haphazardly thrown around by Minhyuk during his shuffling. Their backs were fully red, no decorations, but he could tell that they weren’t all the same just from the marks of use - a scratch here, a tear there. He could see how Hyungwon was right in his affirmation that Minhyuk had all those little details memorized; no card was the same as the other. Minhyuk might as well have done this on purpose.

On second thought, he  _ definitely _ did it on purpose.

“It’s not really ‘guessing’ if he already knows everything, but alright. It changes nothing,” Hyungwon said, daintily moving his cards to sit in a neat line in front of him with only the tip of his index finger. “You can go first.”

Minhyuk, who was also done rearranging his own cards on the table, shifted in his chair and took a deep breath. “From which side should I start?”

“Left to right,” Guhn supplied in Hyungwon’s stead.

“My left, I’m assuming,” Minhyuk said to confirm. Guhn agreed with a nod. “Alright.”

Minhyuk took another deep breath and rolled his shoulders, looking at the cards in front of Hyungwon.

“From left to right, the cards are—” Minhyuk began, pausing for a moment before slowly reciting, “Queen of Clubs, Two of Hearts, Two of— Clubs,” he stammered, unsure, “Queen of Hearts, and… Six of Diamonds.”

Hyungwon didn’t say anything - he simply turned over each card in the order Minhyuk had named them and, sure enough, he’d been right in all of his guesses. Minhyuk’s shoulders slumped in relief.

“Your turn,” Minhyuk told Hyungwon.

Hyungwon blinked at him, unimpressed, and confidently recited, “From left to right: Jack of Clubs, King of Clubs, Five of Diamonds, Jack of Hearts, Five of Hearts.”

Minhyuk didn’t react right away, clearly taken aback by how fast Hyungwon had guessed and, like Hyungwon had done, he turned over each card in the order Hyungwon had named them. All correct.

Jooheon made a soft, barely audible whimpering sound next to him, while Changkyun gave Hyungwon a discreet thumbs-up; he wasn’t sure he saw it, but he still wanted to show his support somehow. Minhyuk, on the other hand, had gone very quiet, very still.

He was obviously not expecting Hyungwon to do so well right from the start.

Guhn clapped for them, smiling as if he was being faced with the entertainment of the century. “A great start! Let’s try something else. Shuffle the cards again.”

Minhyuk diligently did so once Hyungwon gathered his own cards and handed them over. “How are we supposed to do this now?”

“You can take turns guessing,” Guhn said. “Place the stack of cards face down, then take turns guessing the card sitting at the very top.”

Hyungwon rolled his eyes. “ _ This _ is your delightful idea? Guessing cards?”

“This is the warm-up, dear, pay attention.”

“How long do you want us to warm-up for? We already proved we can guess the cards, why don’t you—”

“Hyungwon,” Guhn said, his voice firm, and placed a hand on Hyungwon’s shoulder, his white glove a screaming contrast against the dark fabric of Hyungwon’s coat. “Play the game.”

Hyungwon went very still for a moment, his face tense, and Changkyun wanted nothing more than to push Guhn away, force him to stop touching Hyungwon, but he’d retracted his hand before Changkyun could act on it. Hyungwon swallowed and fidgeted in his seat, glancing over at Changkyun briefly before he focused on the cards in front of him again.

Changkyun hadn’t forgotten the bruises. The short exchange he just witnessed only served to make him more and more sure Guhn was the one responsible for them.

“Fine,” Hyungwon said, clipped, “I’ll start.” He reached out briskly and slid the topmost card out of the stack. “Three of Diamonds.”

He turned it around and, sure enough, Three of Diamonds.

Minhyuk, the line of his shoulders tense, did the same next, pulling out the topmost card from the stack. In a less confident tone than Hyungwon’s, he said, “Four of Clubs.”

He turned the card around. Correct.

It went on like that for a good while. Eight of Clubs, Five of Hearts, Two of Diamonds, Five of Clubs. Once Minhyuk guessed King of Diamonds correctly, Hyungwon turned to Guhn again.

“Is this enough for a warm-up or should we keep going until we all fall asleep out of boredom?”

“My, are you in a mood tonight,” Guhn said, and Changkyun could hear the condescending undertones in his voice. “Very well, we can move on to the main event.”

“And what would that be?” Minhyuk asked.

“Gather all the cards again, divide them equally amongst yourselves,” Guhn instructed, again sounding like he was having the time of his life. “This will be a much more interesting game.”

“Do explain,” Hyungwon requested, not a hint of interest to be found in him.

“You are both psychics, meaning you can probably see a lot about each other,” Guhn said. “This game consists of one guessing things about the other. Each time one of you gets a fact right, the other needs to drop one of his cards. The first who runs out of cards loses.”

Changkyun felt himself tense up, meeting Hyungwon’s gaze to exchange with him a concerned look. He’d said too much to Minhyuk earlier, and now the things he let slip would come back to bite him (and Hyungwon) in the ass. If only Guhn wasn’t there—

“It sounds like fun,” Minhyuk said as he finished distributing the cards, and Changkyun noticed how confident he sounded. Jooheon mentioned to him once that Minhyuk was good at reading people - he was about to find out just how good. “We can name any facts about each other?”

“Yes, anything,” Guhn confirmed.

“Lovely. Would you like to start?” Minhyuk asked Hyungwon.

Hyungwon fixed his posture in his seat, spine becoming straighter. “Alright,” he said, watching Minhyuk intensely for a couple of seconds. “You truly believe you have a chance of winning this game.”

Changkyun had to bite back a smile - of course Hyungwon would open with something to poke at Minhyuk’s pride. Minhyuk dropped one of his cards easily; if that was a normal deck of playing cards, that meant each of them would have twenty-six cards in their possession. Minhyuk now had twenty-five.

“My turn!” Minhyuk chirped, leaning slightly forward, closer to Hyungwon. “You never had to struggle for money your entire life.”

Hyungwon easily dropped a card, unbothered. “The same cannot be said about you.”

Minhyuk dropped another card. “You think you’re better than me.”

Hyungwon laughed through his nose and dropped another one of his cards. “You’re a very good liar.”

“So are you,” Minhyuk threw back right away as he dropped another of his cards. Hyungwon dropped a card.

Changkyun was getting more and more into it, that game certainly a lot more riveting than the previous one. And, Changkyun also noticed, they were beginning to attract a small crowd of curious onlookers. He blamed it on Hyungwon’s unusual hair, far too bright for the nighttime - it was like a beacon. Minhyuk’s clothes didn’t help either; that they were sitting under a giant, bright sign that announced fortune-telling was the last nail in the coffin.

“You might be a Fortune Teller, but you don’t believe in the supernatural,” Hyungwon continued on, and Minhyuk hesitantly dropped another card.

Changkyun grimaced - a declaration like that would certainly hurt Minhyuk’s reputation, if the people around decided to spread the word. It was bad for business.

“You suffer a lot with headaches,” Minhyuk affirmed and Changkyun had to close his eyes and take a deep breath - that one was his fault, from when he asked Hyungwon about his headaches earlier. He would apologize later.

Hyungwon dropped a card. “That healing cut on your lip was given to you by the angry husband of a woman you had sex with.”

Changkyun’s jaw dropped at the same time Jooheon spluttered next to him - if he didn’t know Hyungwon was always right, Jooheon’s reaction alone would have confirmed that allegation. Guhn, too, seemed quite amused by that from the loud bark of laughter he let out.

Changkyun decided not to think about how Hyungwon saying the word ‘sex’ so casually made him feel.

Minhyuk’s ears were red with shame when he dropped a card. Changkyun held his breath; Minhyuk was getting more and more angry, and that didn’t bode well for Hyungwon.

“You deeply dislike Mr. Guhn.”

Hyungwon laughed at Minhyuk’s affirmation and dropped not one, but two cards. Guhn’s nostrils flared as he glared at Hyungwon, but Hyungwon either didn’t or pretended not to notice. “I’ll drop an extra card for the half-statement. Thank you for sugarcoating it.” He cleared his throat to recover from his laughter and said, “There’s someone here you want to impress.”

Minhyuk dropped a card. “There’s someone here you have already impressed.”

Hyungwon’s lips quirked up in a secret smile and he dropped another card after exchanging a quick glance with Changkyun. That meant Hyungwon now had eighteen cards and Minhyuk, twenty.

“You have a reputation for being promiscuous,” Hyungwon said.

Minhyuk’s card count dropped to nineteen. “You’d rather be anywhere than here.”

Hyungwon had to think about that one for a moment before he dropped a card, although he still didn’t look sure about it. “You enjoy being the center of attention.”

Minhyuk dropped a card. “You had an unhappy childhood.”

“Wrong,” Hyungwon declared and smiled blandly at Minhyuk. “I suppose that means you’re the one who has to drop a card.”

Minhyuk huffed through his nose, frustrated, but dropped another card. That brought the score back to an even seventeen to seventeen.

“ _ You _ had an unhappy childhood,” Hyungwon used Minhyuk’s own guess against him. One less card for Minhyuk.

Minhyuk stared at Hyungwon for a long moment. Changkyun wasn’t sure if he was trying to think up something to say, if he was intimidated for making the first mistake of the entire game, or if he was simply trying to unnerve Hyungwon. If his intention was the latter, he completely failed.

“You use your looks to your advantage.”

Hyungwon dropped a card. “You hate cucumbers so much only the smell is enough to make you sick.”

Minhyuk gasped before he dropped another card. “How did you know that?”

Hyungwon blinked and looked at Minhyuk for a long moment before saying, as if it were obvious, “I’m a psychic. Isn’t that what this game is all about?”

“But— that was so specific,” Minhyuk grumbled as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I can get more specific, if you want,” Hyungwon declared with unconcealed pride. “Your turn.”

Minhyuk took a deep breath. “You’re hiding something.”

Hyungwon arched an eyebrow but did drop a card. “I’ll give up more cards if you can guess what it is and who I’m hiding it from.”

Changkyun’s eyes widened and he shook his head frantically, trying to catch Hyungwon’s attention, but Hyungwon vehemently ignored him. Minhyuk was about to reveal their secret, Guhn would find out and he would make it so they couldn’t see each other anymore, he would lock Hyungwon up in that dreadful mansion and—

“You are hiding… something you’re ashamed of, from Mr. Guhn.”

Hyungwon sighed. “Wrong. You don’t have to drop any cards this time, I admit it wasn’t a proper question.”

Changkyun exhaled the breath he’d been holding, relieved that Minhyuk didn’t mention him or their secret relationship. Not yet, anyway.

He believed he would have been able to answer those two questions correctly, though - Hyungwon was hiding bruises from Changkyun. Not for shame, but for a wish not to worry him. Maybe he should play this game against Hyungwon some time.

“You have a scar on your scalp you are very self-conscious about,” Hyungwon declared. Minhyuk flinched in his seat; his hand was shaking when he gave up another one of his cards.

“You asked around about me before the game started,” Minhyuk accused.

“Wrong,” Hyungwon immediately replied. Minhyuk dropped another card. “You got that scar during your time working as a telegram boy, around four years ago.”

One more card of Minhyuk’s gone. He only had twelve left now; Hyungwon, fifteen.

“You don’t like me,” Minhyuk tried, but his voice was lacking the previous confidence.

“I am indifferent towards you. You do amuse me, though,” Hyungwon said, and motioned for Minhyuk to drop another card. He did so. “Your mother was a ‘fallen woman’. You never knew who your father was.”

Minhyuk dropped one more card.

“Those were two facts, Minhyuk,” Hyungwon ‘gently’ reminded him.

Minhyuk groaned with frustration and gave up another card. Only nine more. “You have somehow cheated in this game.”

“I haven’t,” Hyungwon replied. Eight cards left for Minhyuk. “You wanted to be a performer in this circus, but you’re too lazy to put in the work.”

Minhyuk dropped another card. Seven more to go. The crowd around them had doubled in number. 

And Minhyuk was growing desperate.

“You can’t actually talk to ghosts.”

“Wrong,” came Hyungwon’s quick reply. Six. “Your mother was the one who taught you all you know about chiromancy.”

Five cards.

Minhyuk took a long time to speak, but when he did, his voice was clear and firm, confident, unwavering.

“You’re in love.”

Hyungwon all but froze for a moment, the declaration obviously unexpected. He glanced up briefly at Changkyun and then down at his lap, for the first time in that entire night showing a dent in his armor. Guhn had frowned at Minhyuk’s accusation and was now glaring at Hyungwon, silently demanding an explanation.

Changkyun wanted to strangle Minhyuk.

“Didn’t you mean  _ you _ are in love?” Hyungwon recovered from the blow by landing one just as strong against Minhyuk. Changkyun noticed how Jooheon shifted next to him. 

Minhyuk jerkily shook his head. “I’m not. That’s wrong.”

“It’s not and you know it.”

“It’s wrong,” the cadence of Minhyuk’s voice dropped, like an animal who feels threatened and wants to seem more dangerous than he actually is. “Drop a card.”

“I’ll drop a card when you get something right or when I get something wrong,” Hyungwon tossed back. Changkyun noticed how he was talking Minhyuk in circles, distracting him from the fact that he hadn’t dropped a card at the accusation of being in love and neither had he told Minhyuk to drop one for stating something wrong.

He hadn’t confirmed or denied. Changkyun wanted to tear his hair out in frustration -  _ was _ Hyungwon in love? And if he was, was it with him? It had to be, certainly— unless there was someone else?

No. No, there wasn’t, Hyungwon wouldn’t—

“But you  _ did _ get something wrong, so drop the card already,” Minhyuk insisted.

“I’m not wrong.”

“Drop. A. Card.”

“No.”

Minhyuk scoffed and shook his head. “What are you? How do you know so much?” He leaned forward, elbows on the table and said in a contemptuous tone, “Here’s a statement for you: you’re not human.”

Changkyun closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. The one thing that would actually upset Hyungwon and Minhyuk had gone and done it. Worse, accusing him of such in public, in front of an entire crowd, entirely on display; Hyungwon hated it the most, Changkyun knew, to be under that form of scrutiny, to be seen as an abnormality.

He hated it the most, because it’s what hurt him the most.

Hyungwon laughed out loud at that, the sound of it forced, bitter. “I’m not human? That’s your explanation for losing this game?” Hyungwon shook his head and got up from his seat. “Just because you’re terrible at this doesn’t mean I’m not just as human as you are. Want me to drop a card, fine.” He tossed all the fifteen cards he still had in his possession on the table before Minhyuk. “Take all of them. I’ll give you a pity win.” The venom in Hyungwon’s words was so heavy even Changkyun was taken aback. “I’m done with this stupid game, excuse me.”

Without saying another word more, Hyungwon walked away, the crowd of people parting like the Red Sea to allow him passage. Guhn, livid, faced splotched red, angrily shouted Hyungwon’s name and hurried after him without saying anything to Minhyuk, the onlookers whispering amongst themselves as they dispersed now that the show was over.

Meanwhile, Minhyuk was still sitting on his chair, staring at the messy pile of cards and gripping the edge of the table so hard Changkyun could see the white bone of his knuckles through the stretch of his skin. He was shaking, from either anger or humiliation or both, his breathing heavy and audible even from where Changkyun stood.

Changkyun was in a daze; it all happened so fast.

Changkyun glanced over at Jooheon, struck dumb next to him like a mirror image of himself, staring at the back of Minhyuk’s head. He looked from Jooheon to Minhyuk to the direction where Hyungwon had stormed off to; he wanted to follow him, but leaving Minhyuk alone felt wrong.

“You’ll stay with him?” he asked Jooheon.

Jooheon jolted as if waking from a dream and nodded. “Y-yeah, I’ll— I’ll stay.”

“I’ll be right back,” Changkyun declared and rushed after Hyungwon and Guhn, weaving through the people as fast as he could to catch up to them.

He spotted them far ahead, Hyungwon having walked too fast in that short span of time, covered too much ground, Guhn on his heels only because he hadn’t wasted any time going after him. Changkyun gave chase, decided to get between them in case Guhn decided to shout at Hyungwon again - he didn’t care to make himself known, not anymore, didn’t care to have Guhn acknowledge his existence. Let him know. Defending Hyungwon felt more important than keeping their strange relationship a secret, and after what just happened it was imperative for him to—  _ be there _ . Someone like Guhn would not simply accept what happened, the way Hyungwon lost his composure in front of a crowd, the way he’d forfeit the game Guhn was responsible for over a petty comment regarding his nature.

No. He wouldn’t accept it - Guhn would retaliate.

Changkyun picked up his pace once the crowd became more scarce, his eyes locked on the two shadows ahead, barely blinking. His stomach dropped as he saw the faraway silhouette of Guhn grab Hyungwon by the arm and pull him towards the back of a few stalls, away from the main path and into the darkness, and he quickly followed, slipping between two kiosks to reach that back area. It was dark there, too dark for him to see clearly so far ahead, but he could spot the two shapes beyond and he broke into a run.

The narrow space made it difficult, the little distance between the backs of the kiosks and the tall brick wall that lined that side of the grounds not allowing for much movement, the overgrowth and the weeds catching at his feet, slowing him down. He still tried, ran as fast as he could. They were too far, though.

When he was barely halfway there, still too far to do anything, too far to defend Hyungwon, he saw very clearly, thanks to the light that filtered through the spaces between the kiosks, the moment Guhn raised a hand and slapped Hyungwon across the face. He nearly tripped over his own feet such was his shock to witness that scene, scorching wrath surging within him, but he somehow kept running, coming closer and closer.

He saw Guhn shout something at Hyungwon, invading his personal space in the most disrespectful way to scream right at his face, heard his voice echo above even the sounds of the carnival beyond, before he stomped his way back to the main path, leaving Hyungwon behind; he didn’t notice Changkyun was there, showed no sign that he’d seen him at all. If he noticed, he didn’t care.

Hyungwon, however, did notice Changkyun’s approach and quickly ducked his head and looked away when he finally reached him, panting from exertion and rage.

“Are you alright?” Changkyun immediately asked, trying to coax Hyungwon to look at him. “Hyungwon—”

“I’m fine,” Hyungwon said; he sounded so small.

“Look at me, let me see,” he insisted and, after a moment’s hesitation, Hyungwon finally relented and turned his face towards Changkyun.

“There’s nothing to see,” Hyungwon said, covering his own cheek with one hand protectively after just a second; Changkyun didn’t have time to assess the damage. “Just a slap, nothing to concern yourself over.”

“Of course I’m concerned,” Changkyun said, patience beginning to run thin. “Do you think I haven’t noticed the bruises?”

Hyungwon flinched and ducked his head again. “I was hoping you didn’t.”

“Well, I did.”

“He’s never hit me before,” Hyungwon said. Changkyun opened his mouth to argue, but Hyungwon spoke first. “I mean it. He grabbed me a couple of times, but— this is the first time he’s actually struck me.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Changkyun declared, meaning it to his core, but Hyungwon placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him when he made to go after Guhn.

“Don’t, it’s not worth it.”

“Not worth it? Look what he does to you, look at how he treats you!” Changkyun was raising his voice, too incensed to care about his volume. “He just hit you! Who knows what he’s capable of doing next, he can’t just get away with this!”

“You worry too much,” Hyungwon said, smiling down at him in that soft, tender way he did. “This won’t even bruise.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’ll bruise, what matters is that he hit you!” Changkyun argued, his anger almost out of place when Hyungwon himself was acting so subdued. “Hyungwon—”

“It’s alright. I’m alright,” Hyungwon interrupted him, lowering his hand again. Even with the low light, Changkyun could still see Hyungwon’s cheek had reddened where he’d been struck.

Changkyun was unable to hold back from reaching up and covering his cheek with his own hand, careful not to hurt him. He felt Hyungwon’s breath against his wrist, felt the moment it hitched when he touched him; it was always strange for him to touch Hyungwon, always the mixed feeling that he shouldn’t be doing that, shouldn’t put his hands on someone so lovely, as if he would stain him just by being too close, while at the same time feeling as if he’d never done something more right in his life, as if touching Hyungwon was what he was born to do. That Hyungwon always allowed that proximity at all was already enough to have Changkyun’s head spinning, but for Hyungwon not to recoil from his touch entirely— it was heaven.

“Is it hurting?” Changkyun asked, attempting to control himself to keep his voice low. He could only imagine how much stronger Hyungwon’s headache had gotten since they first met earlier that evening, after a very loud circus performance, followed by a stressful competition with Minhyuk, and now being slapped. He didn’t need Changkyun to add to it.

“It’s stinging a bit,” Hyungwon admitted. “I suppose I was lucky he was wearing one of his softer gloves tonight.”

“Please, don’t joke about this,” Changkyun requested.

“I’m fine,” Hyungwon insisted, his smile widening a bit. “I may not be physically strong, but I’m also not made of glass.”

“I know you’re not.”

Hyungwon leaned his head against the hand Changkyun still had on his cheek, his eyes large and liquid reflecting the few lights that filtered through the gaps between the stalls. He wasn’t crying, but he looked like he was barely hanging by a thread. Changkyun’s heart ached for him.

“I’m sorry,” Changkyun blurted out. Hyungwon frowned, confused.

“For what?”

“I feel like I’ve failed you tonight. First with Minhyuk and that dumb game, and now this—”

“There was nothing you could do,” Hyungwon said, gentle, so gentle, “not about the game and not about Guhn.”

“Hyungwon— what Minhyuk said, is it true?” Changkyun asked suddenly; the question had been on the tip of his tongue since Minhyuk brought it up, and he couldn’t contain himself anymore. “Are you in love?”

Hyungwon didn’t seem surprised at the question, just like he didn’t seem surprised at hardly anything. Still, there was a shift in his demeanor, expression softening into something that looked vulnerable; it was refreshing to see something like that in Hyungwon’s otherworldly face, always wearing that impenetrable mask of confidence. Changkyun had seen it before, of course, but it never failed to throw him off guard, remind him that Hyungwon wasn’t that unreachable prince he seemed to be, but— human. A person.

He’d been seeing it more and more lately. It made him happy, proud to be the one Hyungwon trusted enough to be vulnerable with.

“Don’t you know the answer to that already?” Hyungwon asked back, eyes bright, sparkling, more stars in them than in the night sky above their heads.

“I need to hear you say it, otherwise I will never believe it to be true.”

“And if I lie?” Hyungwon proposed it as a challenge, but Changkyun dismissed it immediately with a shake of his head.

“You won’t lie.”

“You are very certain of it.”

“Am I wrong?”

Hyungwon didn’t reply right away, instead bringing his hand up again to cover Changkyun’s, which was still resting on his cheek. Changkyun held his breath, watching as if transfixed the way Hyungwon turned his head, only the bare minimum, to press his lips to Changkyun’s palm. His legs felt like they were made of pudding, about to collapse at any second, but, somehow, he kept himself standing. 

“It’s true,” Hyungwon murmured, although he might as well have shouted with how the words were ringing in Changkyun’s ears. “I am in love. I am in love with you to the point of pain, irrevocably sick with it.”

Changkyun was not sure if he wanted to laugh or to cry, if he should pull Hyungwon closer or push him away - what future was there for them, two men of such different societies? Hyungwon deserved better than a thieving rat such as himself, he deserved only the finer things in life, to be surrounded by silks and velvets and jewels, and not— not the nothing Changkyun could offer him.

And yet, he wanted it. Changkyun wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything before, he wanted Hyungwon with the sort of reckless abandon he had only ever heard of in stories. It was a want of the soul, absolute madness, lacking sense, lacking logic, but he needed it, needed to have Hyungwon and to belong to him explicitly, without room for any doubt - if Hyungwon told him to bark, he would, if he told him to jump, he would, if he told him to live or die or kill, he would.

It was so potent a sentiment it frightened him if he tried to inspect it too closely.

“Are you going to say you love me back,” Hyungwon asked, his voice frail around the edges despite his attempt at smiling, “or will I return home tonight with a sore cheek and a broken heart?”

Changkyun chuckled, baffled with the possibility of Hyungwon ever thinking like that. “Of course I love you. I think I’ve loved you even before we met.” He never thought it would be so easy to confess his feelings so directly, but once he started speaking, the words just poured out of him. “You say you are sick with it - so am I.” He wrapped his free arm around Hyungwon’s narrow waist to pull him close, the fabric of his coat soft under his fingertips, his scent of flowers and honey making him dizzy. Hyungwon went easy into his embrace, eyes wide as he looked down at Changkyun - so lovely. “I have nothing to offer you but this, all I have is my heart and it’s yours to do with as you will.”

“It’s not just your heart I want,” Hyungwon replied, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Changkyun’s. He held his breath, for a moment believing Hyungwon would kiss him - soon. Soon.

“You want my body?” he asked, he offered. “My mind? My soul? It’s yours. All that I am is yours.”

“And if I break you?”

“Then I’ll be broken.”

Hyungwon giggled, that airy giggle of his, and Changkyun could not hold himself back any longer, that wonderful feeling of redamancy bubbling out of him. The hand that was still resting on Hyungwon’s cheek slid to the back of his neck to pull him closer, to keep him still, and finally he did what he’d done in countless daydreams before and kissed him.

The moment their lips touched there was a  _ zap _ , as if they had been charged with electrical energy and that energy had been released through that brief touch, and they parted, startled, staring at each other in a similar state of bemusement. Changkyun’s ears were ringing, the pounding of his heart quaking his entire body, and it felt as if something had popped like a balloon in his chest and spread warmth all over.

Hyungwon’s lips parted to allow a soft exhale passage, his eyes wide with wonder and shock as if he’d just came upon a sudden realization, as if he’d learned all the secrets of the universe.

Considering how their universe was entirely contained in the spaces between them, Changkyun was inclined to agree that it was the case.

A small laugh bubbled out of Hyungwon, a single note that heaved his chest and caused the corners of his mouth to quirk up, his not-quite-hazel eyes glimmering as a single tear escaped them. Changkyun felt alarmed for a moment, wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he didn’t have enough time to do so when Hyungwon cupped his face gently with both hands and surged forward to kiss him again.

There was no burst of energy this time.

No. This time he could properly appreciate how plush and soft Hyungwon’s lips were, how warm, how perfectly they fit with his. He only contained himself for a moment, only a second, before that hunger in him took over and what began as a chaste press of lips turned more passionate, more desperate, Changkyun latching onto Hyungwon as if he would drop dead if there was any distance left between them.

He might as well have been drowning all his life and kissing Hyungwon was the lungful of air that heralded salvation; it felt as if everything just clicked together - that strange connection they shared, all the longing, all the unexplained feelings, all of it culminated into that single action. He didn’t believe in soulmates or fate, but what else could it be? What else could explain it? He couldn’t think of anything else that could be the reason for it, no matter how even the theory of soulmates felt understated when compared to the strength of that bond.

Although, as Hyungwon had once put it, some things just are.

Maybe he should stop trying to find a logical answer for it - it was a waste of precious time when he could be enjoying kissing Hyungwon instead.

Hyungwon was so receptive of his touches, followed his lead so easily, that it made it hard to believe how assertive and stubborn he was at any other time. He earnestly matched Changkyun’s pace and intensity, his hands falling from his face to grasp at his shoulders, at the thick fabric of his coat, and Changkyun delighted at the content sighs and little noises that escaped Hyungwon’s lips any time they parted to catch their breaths.

The next time they parted, Changkyun trailed kisses to Hyungwon’s cheek, where he’d been struck minutes before, eliciting a breathless chuckle from him. His head felt so light Changkyun was certain he would fly up into the night sky like a steam balloon were Hyungwon not holding him.

“Don’t go back to the mansion,” Changkyun pleaded in an urgent whisper, pressing more kisses to Hyungwon’s cheek. “Stay with me, come home with me—”

“I can’t,” Hyungwon replied, resting his head on Changkyun’s shoulder. “There’s too much at stake.”

“We can deal with it,” Changkyun insisted, “whatever it is we can figure it out, as long as you leave that place, leave Guhn—”

“I can’t, Changkyun,” Hyungwon repeated, snaking his arms around him in a tight embrace. Changkyun held him back just as tight. “There’s nothing I can do right now, the consequences aren’t worth it when I can manage it.”

“But—”

“We can work with what we have,” Hyungwon interrupted him gently, pulling away from him just enough that they could face each other. “I don’t want you to get involved in my dealings with Guhn, I know how to handle him, so—”

“Hyungwon, he  _ hit you _ ,” Changkyun felt the need to remind him. He took his face in his hands lovingly, kissed him once, twice, three times. “I can’t let you go back to that place with him.”

“I’ll handle it,” Hyungwon repeated and smiled down at him, an obvious attempt at reassuring him. “He won’t strike me again, I swear it.”

“How can you know that?”

“Talking to ghosts is not the only trick I have up my sleeve.”

“I’m afraid to ask what you mean by that,” Changkyun admitted with a sigh, making Hyungwon laugh fondly.

“Don’t ask, then.”

Changkyun groaned, frustrated. “You’re the reason I’ll have gray hairs before I’m thirty.”

Hyungwon giggled again and Changkyun shut him up the only way he knew how - by kissing him once more. Hyungwon gave in easily, and how wonderful would it be if they could stay there, hidden in that narrow, secluded space, just holding each other.

Reality called, unfortunately.

“I have to go,” Hyungwon said against his lips, between one kiss and the next. Changkyun shook his head, trapped Hyungwon’s bottom lip with his teeth, licked into his mouth to demand more as if those actions were enough to stop the world from turning to give them more time together. Hyungwon broke away again, his lips red and swollen, his pupils blown wide with want. “I have to go,” he repeated, “but come to the mansion tomorrow morning.”

“Yes,” Changkyun agreed, not a second’s hesitation.

“I’ll tell the servants to open the side door for you,” Hyungwon instructed, kissing him one more time, on the corner of his mouth, before he stepped back and fixed his clothes. Changkyun didn’t bother doing the same. “Wait for me in the kitchen.”

“I will,” Changkyun promised and lunged forward to press one last kiss to Hyungwon’s lips, just long enough that the sensation lingered when they parted. “Be careful.”

“Hurry home, little mouse,” Hyungwon told him, a playful side grin on his face as he walked backwards, away from him, “you’ll catch your death in this weather.”

“You’re a medium,” Changkyun responded, cheeky, watching him go, “even if I catch my death, you’ll hear from me plenty.”

Hyungwon’s laughter was crystal clear even as he disappeared into the shadows. 

◦ ◦ ◦

Minhyuk stared at the pile of cards on the table before him with blurry eyes. Tears of pure rage were threatening to fall but he willed himself not to let them. His breathing was erratic and shallow, he was shaking all over, barely containing himself from flipping that table and breaking everything in sight.

Who gave Hyungwon the right to use his every weakness against him? Who gave him the right to dig around for Minhyuk’s darkest memories, and worse, how did he find out about all of it? His mother, his scar, his—

“Minhyuk?” he heard Jooheon’s voice behind him; it did nothing to soothe him, on the contrary, it only made him more nervous. “Are you— are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he gritted out in response.

“You don’t look fine, you—”

He felt Jooheon place a hand on his shoulder and instinctively jumped up from his seat and away from Jooheon, thoroughly avoiding his touch. Jooheon jerked back, eyes wide with shock and, to Minhyuk’s regret, hurt.

“I’m fine, Jooheon,” Minhyuk repeated, trying to keep his voice steady, keep it from shaking.

“Why are you so angry?” Jooheon asked carefully, as if afraid Minhyuk would snap at him.

“Why— Why do you think!?” Minhyuk snapped just as Jooheon feared. “He— he humiliated me! He called me a liar, he made everyone question my ability of fortune-telling, he disclosed things about me that I never shared with anyone, he— he—”

“Minhyuk, it’s alright,” Jooheon said, “it’ll be fine, it—”

“It’s not going to be fine!” Minhyuk cried. Jooheon didn’t get it. He just couldn’t get it, he wasn’t the one who had his secrets paraded before an entire crowd of people, his every shame brought to light. “He— How did he know all of that, Jooheon?”

Jooheon gave him a helpless shrug. “I— I don’t know, he’s— I told you he was scary, Minhyuk! I tried to tell you!”

“And what, it’s my fault for not listening!?”

“N-no, that’s not what I meant,” Jooheon was quick to say. Minhyuk didn’t mean to lash out, never once wished to take out his anger on Jooheon, but his wrath was bursting out of him like a volcano spouting lava - the volcano can’t control the fall of its lava, can’t keep the space around it from being covered in poisonous ash.

“How could he know,” Minhyuk muttered to himself, pulling off the red headscarf from his head so he could run a shaky hand through his hair. “How did he know all that, where could he have found that information—”

“I— I don’t know,” Jooheon replied, probably thinking Minhyuk had been talking to him and not at him. “I think he’s a witch. I’m almost sure he is a witch.”

“He can’t be normal, there’s something— There has to be something,” Minhyuk continued with his feverish rambling. “He has a secret, there is a logical explanation for all of this and I’m going to find out what it is and knock him down from his pedestal.”

Jooheon shook his head at that, rejecting the very concept. “What? No, no, no, please don’t make him angry, who knows what else he can do if—”

“He’s not scary! I’m not scared of him!” Minhyuk insisted fervently. “He’s a liar and I’m going to show everyone there’s nothing amazing about him, he’s just as much a fraud as I am.”

“Even if he’s a fraud, he has money, Minhyuk!” Jooheon said, more confident now. “He has connections, he can— he could hurt you.”

Minhyuk’s every movement halted at the raw concern in Jooheon’s voice, how his expression had softened, how—

No. No, no, no, he wasn’t going down that road.

“He won’t have anything once I expose him for what he is,” Minhyuk said.

Jooheon watched him for a long time, lips pressed into a thin line. Minhyuk didn’t like that expression on his face, didn’t like that he was the one responsible for it. If only he could make it so Jooheon was always smiling, always happy, never worried, or scared, or sad. If only he could—

“Minhyuk,” Jooheon called his name softly, carefully, “are you reacting like this because— because of what he said last? About you being in love?”

That was the last question he wanted to hear coming from Jooheon. He panicked, and the panic mingled with all the anger that was already there, all the frustration, and it burst out of Minhyuk in the form of a loud, ugly, derisive laugh.

“No, definitely not,” he said, shaking his head to emphasize how much that was  _ not _ a problem. “I’m not in love, he got that one wrong.”

“He seemed very certain that—”

“Well, he was wrong,” Minhyuk cut him off, sharp as a dagger. “I’m not in  _ love _ ,” he said the word coated with the most disgust he could muster. “I don’t— I don’t  _ do  _ love, there is no way he could be more wrong.”

Jooheon lowered his eyes to the ground, fidgeting where he stood, wringing the hem of his coat nervously in his hands. “Okay. Sorry for asking.”

If regrets could kill, Minhyuk would already be at the Gates.

“I’ll prove he’s a fraud,” Minhyuk repeated, to take the attention away from the previous topic more than anything. “You’ll see, my honey. I’ll show everyone he’s nothing but a very good liar.”

Jooheon nodded, his movements clipped. “As you say. I— I should go find Changkyun and head home.”

He held his breath, regret doubling in strength and size and weight, crushing his heart. He didn’t mean to give Jooheon the impression he wanted him to leave; Minhyuk wanted to ask him to stay, ask him not to go. Ask him to never go.

He didn’t.

“Take care, Minhyuk,” Jooheon said and, without waiting for a reply, turned on his heels and left towards the same direction Changkyun had run off to.

Minhyuk stood there, alone, stewing in his own rage and guilt - and it was all Hyungwon’s fault.

◦ ◦ ◦

Kihyun was ready to call it a night, far too tense and concerned to allow himself to enjoy their outing, but Hoseok was having fun and didn’t look like he wanted to go home just yet. Hyunwoo seemed to be neutral about it, so Kihyun chose not to be the one to put a damper on things - he felt like he said ‘no’ too much already, and Hoseok was overdue for some indulgence.

Since Hoseok was doing fine that evening, the symptoms of his illness kept at bay by sheer willpower, Kihyun turned his focus to Hyunwoo instead.

From the moment Hyungwon had ‘implied’ Hyunwoo was sick, Kihyun had been keeping a close eye on him - so far, nearly two hours later, he was yet to witness anything that betrayed Hyunwoo was anything less than perfectly healthy. Sure, he had deep dark circles under his eyes and was clearly fatigued, but that could be explained by the long nights and hard work he’d been doing the last few weeks. Kihyun himself was exhausted, and that didn’t mean he was sick - meticulous and careful as he was, Kihyun would have noticed if he was showing symptoms of consumption. He wasn’t. He was merely tired from working too much.

Just like Hyunwoo, who was  _ not _ sick.

And who could fault them for being tired? They hardly ever stopped working. Kihyun was always running up and down throughout the city, visiting clients, closing deals, managing their personnel, doing inventory, keeping up with the books, and, when he wasn’t focused on their business, he was tending to Hoseok - it wasn’t work, he would never qualify anything he did for Hoseok as  _ work _ , but it took a lot out of him both emotionally and mentally. And Hyunwoo was no different, working several odd jobs during the day and deep into the night, assisting Kihyun with their products at the warehouse, seeing to their ship’s upkeep, bribing people to keep their mouths shut about their contraband, doing deliveries. They were both running on fumes, going on very little sleep and too much stress.

It used to be easier - before Hoseok fell ill, they shared those responsibilities between the three of them. An operation of the magnitude they were running, it took a lot more work than just bringing over some smuggled products and selling them. No, it was much deeper than that, more intricate, because if they weren’t careful enough, they could all be arrested. The stakes were too high, and while Kihyun would gladly give up that line of work and seek something more—  _ legal _ , it was the best way to make money.

Of course, they hemorrhaged money constantly, be it with their personal bills, medicine for Hoseok, paying their staff, all the bribing, all the cuts for partners that sold their product in their stores. Money came easy, but it went easy too - very little of what they made found its way to their savings. Worrying about their funds was yet another thing that made Kihyun and Hyunwoo weary, added to their fatigue.

At least they could cross out a new place to live off their list of concerns - it had been pressing on Kihyun, the urgency to find someplace safer. Their old landlord was known for evicting tenants for much less, so if he had found that Hoseok had a contagious, potentially deadly illness, he would have thrown them out with nothing but the clothes on their backs and set fire to the rest of their belongings.

Yes, Kihyun hadn’t forgotten that Hyunwoo was keeping something from them, but it wasn’t— it was not tuberculosis. It had something to do with all the extra money he was bringing home, and being sick didn’t make money magically appear in one’s pockets. No, whatever it was Hyunwoo was hiding, it was something he was  _ doing _ and not something he  _ had _ .

But what was it? Hyungwon said he knew what it was, but he also said Kihyun should wonder at the ‘why’ and not the ‘what’. Whatever that meant. Trusting Hyungwon felt like the wrong move but, then again, he knew about Hoseok’s illness, had given him a good tip regarding the hibiscus tea - Hoseok had been much less prone to fevers and coughing fits since Kihyun started giving him that tea, and he would be forever grateful to Hyungwon for that. He was wrong, though, about Hyunwoo being ill.

And what the hell did ‘I might just be able to help’ even mean? Was Hyungwon keeping a miraculous cure for consumption hidden away at that creepy old mansion of his? It sounded like bullshit if Kihyun had ever heard any.

It didn’t matter, though. Hyunwoo wasn’t sick, he’d thanked Hyungwon for the advice about the tea, and that was that. No point in dwelling on it.

And yet he couldn’t stop.

Watching Hyunwoo waiting in line to buy himself a caramel apple, Kihyun couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary. His tan skin hadn’t paled a single shade, his face was as round and boyish as it always had been, his body just as sturdy. There was nothing about him physically to indicate he was anything other than healthy.

He wasn’t sick. Hyunwoo was  _ not _ sick.

Hoseok must have caught Kihyun staring, for he nudged his shoulder gently and asked, “You want an apple too?”

Kihyun blinked a couple of times as he forcefully removed himself from his very intense line of thought and smiled up at Hoseok. “No, I was just distracted.”

“With what?” he asked. “How good Hyunwoo looks in that coat?”

Kihyun couldn’t help a giggle. “He does look very good in that coat, but no, it’s not that.”

“Well, it should be, if there’s anything you should be distracted with it’s how handsome our ‘brother’ is,” Hoseok said, cheeky. Kihyun rolled his eyes, barely containing a smile. 

“Yes, we’re very lucky to have such an attractive ‘brother’.”

Hoseok licked his lips, eyes darting out gingerly, before he asked in a lower voice, “Have you and Woo— you know? Since you came back?”

Kihyun noticed the rise of Hoseok’s cheekbones had gone rosy. He gave him a knowing side smile and a fond look. “No, we haven’t.”

“It’s alright if you have,” Hoseok was quick to say. “I— I know I mentioned being jealous that you two can do that kind of stuff, but—”

“Bunny, I mean it. We haven’t,” Kihyun insisted gently. “Neither of us is in the proper headspace for it, and we don’t really have much time or energy to indulge in such things.” Saying it out loud, he realized for the first time how physically distant they had all become - another unfortunate consequence of their situation. “We do kiss and cuddle, but it didn’t go beyond that just yet.”

“Oh,” Hoseok exhaled. “I was hoping— well, what I meant with this is that I don’t want you two to hold back from being affectionate with each other because of me. I do get envious sometimes, but I don’t want to be the reason you two don’t—  _ do  _ stuff.”

“You spend far too much time on your own thinking about sex, dear, I should get you a more difficult puzzle game,” Kihyun joked, and that at least worked to make Hoseok smile. “You don’t have to worry about Hyunwoo and me.”

Hoseok chewed on his bottom lip, his hands shoved in the pockets of his coat and his eyes down to the ground. “I just— I noticed you two have been tense lately. Distant. Not with me, but with each other, and I— I’m worried. Have you two been fighting?”

Kihyun sighed, tired, and hooked one arm around Hoseok’s - the only gesture of affection he could perform in public that wouldn’t draw too much attention. “No, we haven’t been fighting.”

“It’s the secret he’s been keeping, then.”

Kihyun could not reply to that with words, so he merely nodded to confirm Hoseok’s suspicions. He heard Hoseok take a deep breath next to him.

“Do you think he’s cheating?”

“No,” Kihyun immediately replied, honest. “I confronted him already about it being something like that, and I know he was telling the truth. There’s nobody else, he didn’t betray us.”

“If it’s not that, then what is it?” Hoseok asked, more to himself than Kihyun. “What could be so bad that he feels the need to keep it from us? I don’t understand.”

“Have you noticed anything odd?” Kihyun inquired, looking up to meet Hoseok’s eyes. “Or maybe something he said that felt out of place?”

Hoseok shook his head. “No. He acts the same way he always did around me. Although—” Hoseok paused, a hitch appearing between his brows. “I think he hurt himself somewhere.”

Kihyun arched an eyebrow, his curiosity picked. “Why so?”

“A couple of nights ago when he came home,” Hoseok began, pitching his voice lower to keep their conversation private, “you were already sleeping, but I couldn’t fall asleep, so I was awake when he arrived. He came over to give me a hug and when he did, he— he winced and hissed as if he was in pain, and then put a hand on his shoulder.”

“He did?”

“Yes. I asked what was wrong and he said he pulled a muscle carrying something heavy, but— he was definitely lying,” Hoseok concluded his tale with a forlorn little sigh. “I didn’t think it was odd at first. I figured he was just trying not to worry me, but the more I think about it, the stranger it seems.”

“It does sound strange,” Kihyun agreed.

“I worry he might be doing something dangerous.”

Kihyun gave a Hoseok a soothing pat on the shoulder with his free hand. “I was hoping he would come clean on his own and tell us, but— I think I’ll have to do a little digging.”

“I’ll help.”

“No, you won’t,” Kihyun said, stern. “You need all your energy to get better, let me worry about everything else.”

Hoseok groaned, frustrated. “I’m tired of you and Woo keeping everything from me, I’m sick but I’m not a child. I can handle it, Ki.”

“I know you can,” Kihyun said, and he meant it, “but if I can spare you from needless pain, I will.”

“I don’t want to be spared, I want to be part of  _ us _ again,” Hoseok told him, his expression turning sad. Kihyun wished they weren’t in public so he could hold him. “You two keep me out of everything, I might as well not even be here.”

“Don’t say that,” Kihyun pleaded. “Everything we do is for you, every decision we make is for you. We’re doing all we possibly can to keep you here, so please, never talk as if we don’t care about you.”

Hoseok pressed his lips together and averted his eyes again. “I’m sorry, that’s— that’s not what I meant. I know you care about me - I’m just tired of feeling like you two are my parents and not my lov—  _ brothers _ .”

Kihyun laughed through his nose at Hoseok’s little slip. “I understand where you’re coming from with that, but what would you do were our positions reversed? If I was the one who was sick, would you tell me things that could make me upset? Or would you endeavor to make sure I was as calm and unconcerned as possible so I could recover comfortably?”

Hoseok opened his mouth to answer but clamped it shut just as fast, a pout appearing on his lips. “The latter.”

“Mhm, thought so,” Kihyun said. “We mean well, bunny. We’re trying our best, and sometimes we make decisions thinking of what’s better for your health, even if those decisions might make you sad.”

“I know. It’s just hard sometimes.”

“I know. It’s hard for us too,” Kihyun said, holding Hoseok’s hand only for long enough to give it a reassuring squeeze. “I won’t promise to tell you of every little thing, but I will tell anything important regarding Hyunwoo and his secret. Is that enough?”

Hoseok gave him a brief shrug in response. “I guess.”

“You can keep an eye out for anything strange,” Kihyun offered. “You know both me and Hyunwoo like the back of your hand, you’ll be able to tell if something is amiss with him.”

“Fine, I can be your extra pair of eyes,” Hoseok said with a resigned exhale. “But if I ever get better, you owe me.”

“ _ When _ you get better,” Kihyun corrected him, “you can ask the world from me and I’ll gladly give it to you.”

“I already have the world,” Hoseok threw back, along with a fond look and the softest smile gracing his lips.

Kihyun smiled at the ground, cheeks hot and heart pounding, no matter how cheesy Hoseok’s line had been. If Hoseok could still have Kihyun blushing and grinning like a fool with something like that, there was no doubt that their relationship was as sound as ever.

Hyunwoo returned at that exact moment, carrying one caramel apple on each hand and looking from Hoseok to Kihyun with a curious look in his eyes. “What did I miss?”

“Hoseok was asking if you and I have been intimate lately,” Kihyun responded without preamble or shame, to which Hoseok spluttered and gave him a light slap on the arm.

“Ki, not so loud!”

“It wasn’t loud!”

Hyunwoo barked a laugh at their squabble. “Sorry to disappoint, Seok, but we haven’t.”

“Told you,” Kihyun said, watching as Hyunwoo gave the first bite on one of the caramel apples before handing it to Hoseok - Hoseok hated giving the first bite on a regular apple, an apple covered in caramelized sugar was even worse. Hoseok happily accepted the treat after chirping out a ‘thank you’ to Hyunwoo.

“We could change that,” Hyunwoo said, casual, as they began making their way down the path through the crowd. Kihyun rolled his eyes.

“Both of you need better hobbies.”

“You  _ should _ change that,” Hoseok agreed, and Kihyun didn’t know if they were joking anymore. “I can’t take part in it but I can watch.”

“You should most definitely watch,” Hyunwoo said.

Kihyun closed his eyes for a long moment, praying to God for patience. “We’re in  _ public _ —”

“Come on, Ki,” Hyunwoo said, hooking his arm around Kihyun’s free one. “You can’t deny that the idea has some appeal.”

“I never said it didn’t,” Kihyun responded. He noticed the look Hyunwoo and Hoseok exchanged over his head; better to change the topic. “So, what should we do next?”

“We should head home,” Hyunwoo immediately said.

“Yes, home,” Hoseok agreed just as fast.

Kihyun sighed. “You two are impossible.”

“If you don’t want to—”

“I didn’t say that.”

Hyunwoo hummed victoriously around his mouthful of caramel apple, much like Hoseok did. Kihyun glanced up at Hyunwoo, again looking for any signs of illness. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing, he looked— he looked fine.

Hyungwon was wrong. He could have been right about Hoseok, but he was wrong about Hyunwoo.

He shook his head, breathed in deep and slow, as discreetly as he possibly could not to alarm either of his loves. It would not do to keep stressing about Hyungwon’s - very wrong - prediction. Hyunwoo wasn’t sick and that was that.

As they walked, all of them falling silent for a moment, Kihyun noticed Hyunwoo’s eyes on him and looked up to stare at him quizzically. “What?”

“You have something on your mind,” Hyunwoo declared. Not a question, but an affirmation.

“Yes, and what else is new?” Kihyun joked, bitter. 

Hyunwoo stared at him for a moment, a pensive frown on his face, before he stopped walking, which prompted Kihyun and Hoseok to do the same. Then Hyunwoo let go of Kihyun and handed him his apple. “Hold this for a second?”

Kihyun took the apple easily and, without explaining or saying anything else, Hyunwoo walked away from them towards one of the kiosks, the crowd quickly covering him from view. Kihyun looked up at Hoseok, finding the exact same confusion in his face. Kihyun sighed but made no comments, simply taking a bite out of Hyunwoo’s apple while taking care not to get any of the caramel - he hated the texture and how it stuck to his teeth. He liked the fruit just fine, though.

Fortunately, they didn’t have to stand there waiting for long; Hyunwoo soon came back, a little smile playing on his lips and a hand behind his back, hiding something. Once he was properly by their side again, he promptly revealed what it was: a single red rose.

He held the rose out for Kihyun who, again, felt his cheeks warming up and his heart doing somersaults in his chest. Hyunwoo helpfully took his apple back so that Kihyun’s hand was free to accept the flower.

“I know it’s not an easy feat to accomplish but, just for tonight, I want you to not worry about anything,” Hyunwoo said; the warmth in Kihyun’s face spread out to the rest of his body. “Let us take care of you for a change.”

Kihyun exhaled a shaky breath as he looked at the rose in his hand in a daze, feeling how Hoseok’s hold on his arm tightened just the slightest, how Hyunwoo had placed a hand on his back. He wasn’t expecting such a tender, romantic gesture from Hyunwoo - those were usually reserved for Hoseok lately. It was something Kihyun was so accustomed to, that he often forgot how much he enjoyed having the attention, being pampered by his lovers. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d received flowers from either of them.

And, he had to admit, he  _ had _ been spreading himself too thin, was wound up too tight. He should probably say no, remind them that they had a lot to do the next day, with moving apartments and the mess that came with it, but— 

One night of no worries, letting Hyunwoo and Hoseok take the reins— it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Finally, he nodded to agree and smiled up at Hyunwoo, holding the rose against his chest as something precious. “Alright.”

Hyunwoo beamed at him and, after exchanging another conspiratory look with Hoseok, began guiding them towards the exit.

◦ ◦ ◦

“He hit him, Jooheon!” Changkyun exclaimed for the millionth time as they made their way home. “He hit him, can you believe that!?”

Jooheon wanted to say that, yes, he did believe it, because Hyungwon had behaved in a rather infuriating manner the entire night and even he himself wanted to smack him - but he said nothing. That would be a very dumb way to die, since Changkyun would probably strangle him for it.

Sure, violence was never the answer and Jooheon was the last person to defend anybody for hitting someone else, but— he felt very protective of Minhyuk. He never thought he would see Minhyuk so upset, so angry. Jooheon didn’t understand, not completely, the reasons for how strongly Minhyuk had reacted to the things Hyungwon had said. He could get behind the part that harmed his business, the part where Hyungwon mentioned Minhyuk was a skeptic despite posing as a psychic, but the rest— it didn’t change anything. At least, not for Jooheon. He didn’t think any less of Minhyuk for it.

He wished Minhyuk felt comfortable to rely on him. Jooheon was slowly beginning to realize that maybe, just maybe, he could be developing stronger feelings towards Minhyuk. He wouldn’t call them romantic, it wasn’t that - not yet, at any rate - but he cared about him. Considered him a dear person. A friend.

Minhyuk, while constantly teasing him and calling him ‘my honey’, was obviously not there yet. Before that night, he thought Minhyuk saw him as a friend too, but after all that happened, all that was said and done, he was fairly certain it wasn’t the case.

Minhyuk— he didn’t want Jooheon around.

It served him right, he thought. Maybe he’d been too uptight for Minhyuk’s tastes, offended him in his attempts at giving him advice, inserted himself in matters that he shouldn’t have meddled with. Minhyuk didn’t need him.

That thought hurt, for some reason.

“Jooheon?” Changkyun’s voice snapped him from his thoughts. “Are you listening to me?”

“You’re going on about how Guhn hit Hyungwon, yes, I’m listening,” he replied without much inflection and Changkyun frowned.

“Alright, what’s wrong?”

Jooheon shrugged, kicking at a loose pebble on the ground. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re upset, something’s obviously wrong.”

Jooheon inhaled deeply through his nose and said, “I think Minhyuk hates me.”

Changkyun arched an eyebrow at him. “Uh… he really doesn’t.”

“How do you know that? You just met him tonight.”

“And just that was enough for me to know he doesn’t hate you,” Changkyun declared. “The way he looks at you is telling of how fond he is of you.”

Jooheon huffed a bitter laugh through his nose. “He’s really not.”

“Hyungwon said he’s in love,” Changkyun said casually; Jooheon held his breath, “I’d bet everything I own on the fact that the person he’s in love with is you.”

“He’s not in love,” Jooheon replied. Minhyuk had told him himself - he didn’t ‘do’ love. And if he was in love, it would probably be with someone who wasn’t a total stick in the mud like Jooheon was.

That thought hurt, too.

“If Hyungwon said he’s in love, then he’s in love,” Changkyun affirmed.

“Hyungwon was wrong.”

“Hyungwon is never wrong,” he insisted. “I’ve heard enough of his predictions to know, so trust me: he’s never wrong.”

“There’s a first time for everything, and he’s wrong about this,” Jooheon said, firm. “Minhyuk might not downright hate me, but he doesn’t like me either.”

“He calls you his honey,” Changkyun pointed out. “And I saw how he kept putting himself between you and Hyungwon to defend you, why would he do that if he didn’t like you?”

“He was just being nice,” Jooheon said.

Changkyun watched him quietly for a moment, eyes narrowed as if trying to read Jooheon’s mind. “Jooheon.”

“Yes?”

“You like Minhyuk, don’t you?”

Jooheon felt as if he just dunked his face in a bucket of hot coals. “N-no, I don’t.”

“Then why does it bother you so much if he doesn’t like you? I know you’re a people pleaser, but you were never the type to be so broken up about one person not liking you.”

Jooheon pressed his lips together tight and didn’t answer. He could lie and say it didn’t bother him at all, but it was already established that it  _ did _ bother him - he didn’t want to start a cycle of self-contradiction. He also didn’t want to think too hard about all the reasons why it bothered him so much. He was just very fond of Minhyuk, for some ungodly reason. He liked his company, enjoyed being in his presence, and he liked seeing him smile.

Changkyun just hadn’t seen the way Minhyuk treated him after the ‘game’. He didn’t see how Minhyuk avoided Jooheon’s touch, how harsh his words— his  _ eyes _ were. He knew that Minhyuk was upset and that often people lash out when they’re angry, but… it hurt. It hurt a lot.

It didn’t matter if Jooheon liked Minhyuk or not, and it didn’t matter what the nature of that sentiment was - what mattered was that Minhyuk clearly preferred it if Jooheon kept his distance.

So that’s what he would do.

◦ ◦ ◦

The tension inside the small carriage could be cut with a knife. Guhn was resolutely staring out through the small window, but Hyungwon’s eyes were trained on him, his stare steady and intense, burning with quiet fury, resentment.

It had been like that over the better part of their journey back to the moor, Hyungwon sitting very still and staring, barely blinking. It was making Guhn very uncomfortable, very unnerved, unsettled, and Hyungwon thought it was good.

Good, but not enough.

The mist outside was already thick enough that their coachman had to conduct the horses slowly up the path to the mansion, something the man was already accustomed to doing. It meant they would have to stay inside that cramped space together for longer than necessary, however. Hyungwon wouldn’t have that.

Guhn shifted in his seat across from Hyungwon, huffing an annoyed breath of air before he turned to him. “Can you stop with your glaring already? You are acting like a child.”

Hyungwon didn’t reply. Just stared.

Guhn swallowed, throat bobbing up and down, and he straightened his posture, trying to make himself larger, more imposing, more intimidating. “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? I’m not. You embarrassed me tonight by behaving like a spoiled brat, I was in my right to discipline you.”

Again, no reply.

“Stop it,” Guhn ordered him. “I am not afraid of you, you can’t do anything—”

Hyungwon had enough and knocked twice on the ceiling of the carriage with his knuckles, indicating to the coachman to stop. Guhn sputtered, taken aback when Hyungwon opened the door of the carriage and hopped off before they had even stopped moving completely.

“Are you mad? You’ll get lost in the mist, you idiot!” Guhn exclaimed. “Get back inside, right now!”

The coachman was staring at him with a look of concern, his expression mirroring Guhn’s words, but Hyungwon ignored them both.

He turned, fog swirling around his legs with the air shift his cape caused, and stared at Guhn inside the carriage. He was quiet for a moment, only a couple of seconds. Whatever Guhn saw in Hyungwon’s face, it made him jerk back in fear, complexion becoming pale. He was getting scared now. Good.

Good.

“Raise a hand to me again,” Hyungwon finally said, low, slow, extremely clear, “and you will no longer have a hand to raise.”

And with that, he turned around and walked away, off the path and into the mists, rapidly being swallowed by the fog until he was no longer visible.

The door of the carriage slammed shut behind him with a mysterious gust of wind.

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was the most fun i've ever had writing, i hope it was fun to read as well!!
> 
> thank you so much for all the kudos and comments i got on the last chapter!! i hate coming off as needy but ahsgdahjaj i'm an insecure cookie and kudos really make me feel better about my writing, so. yes. thank you!♡♡♡♡
> 
> as always, thanks for reading!♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ghostlike91) | [tumblr](https://ghostlike91.tumblr.com/) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ghostlike)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for really self-indulgent hyungkyun because i have no control over my own damn self
> 
> enjoy!♡

◦

Kihyun woke up that morning to the sound of soft clattering coming from the kitchen, something so unusual his eyes snapped open to assess the situation. It was extremely rare for him not to be the first one to wake up, even on a Sunday like that - Hoseok always slept late if left to his own devices, and Hyunwoo tended to get up around midmorning, as he worked nights. Waking up to noises from the kitchen was definitely strange for Kihyun.

He groggily sat up on the recliner he’d been sleeping on ever since Hoseok requested them to stop sharing a bed, wincing at the hint of a headache just above his eyes, and looked around the living room. Immediately he noticed the mess of blankets on the floor, the empty bottle of wine, the items of clothing thrown around.

As he recalled the events of the previous night, Hoseok came from the kitchen, wearing loose cotton pants and a shirt so oversized Kihyun immediately knew it to be one of Hyunwoo’s. Hoseok broke into a sunny smile once their eyes met.

“Ki, you’re awake!”

“That’s up for debate,” Kihyun grumbled, voice rough with sleep. “Why are you up so early?”

“It’s not _ that _ early,” Hoseok informed him. “It’s a little past nine.”

Kihyun blinked, processing, before he jolted in his seat. “Wh-why didn’t you wake me up!?”

“Because we tired you out last night and you needed to rest,” Hoseok said, cheeky. “Besides, it’s Sunday. It’s alright if you sleep in.”

“But—” Kihyun trailed off, too sleepy to think of a plausible argument. He shivered when a cold breeze hit him and wrapped himself in a blanket - he was so out of it he hadn’t realized he wasn’t wearing any clothes. The day had started well. “Where’s Woo?”

“He went to take some of our stuff to the new apartment,” Hoseok said. “He just left, it’s been no longer than fifteen minutes.”

“That idiot, he was supposed to wait for me,” Kihyun whined, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“He wanted to get started and didn’t want to wake you. You were sleeping so soundly,” Hoseok said and opened his mouth to keep talking, but the sound of a kettle whistling from the kitchen interrupted him. “Ah, I’ll be right back.”

He hurried back into the kitchen and Kihyun let himself flop back down on the chaise, face burrowed into a throw pillow and blanket pulled up over his head. He hated to have his meticulous schedule thrown into chaos, but he had to admit he was feeling— great. He felt relaxed like he hadn’t felt in ages, his body sore in a way that felt pleasant, skin still tingling with memories of his lovers’ touches. He smiled to himself and sighed, content, before he stretched his arms over his head. He could laze around for a few minutes longer, at least for one day.

It wasn’t long until he heard Hoseok’s footsteps coming from the kitchen, felt the recliner dip when he sat down next to him. After a moment, he tugged the blanket down gently until he uncovered Kihyun’s face, and Kihyun blinked up at him, getting used to the light again, and smiled when he saw he was holding a cup of tea out for him.

He pushed himself up once more and gladly accepted the tea. “Thank you, bunny.”

“You’re welcome,” Hoseok chirped, then leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of Kihyun’s head. “Good morning.”

Kihyun’s smile became a bright grin at the loving treatment. “Good morning.” He turned his face to plant a kiss on the rise of Hoseok’s cheekbone. “How are you feeling?”

“I honestly feel better than I have in a long time,” Hoseok admitted, bending down to pick up his own mug, which he left on the floor so he could pull down Kihyun’s blanket a minute before. “At least emotionally.”

Kihyun laughed through his nose and agreed with a motion of his head as he blew his tea to cool it down some before he took a sip. “I get what you mean.” Then, giving Hoseok a knowing look, he said, “You didn’t _ just _ watch.”

Hoseok stuck out his tongue at him like the big brat he was. “Of course I didn’t, it’s not like I could keep my hands to myself.”

Kihyun shook his head fondly and giggled, scooting closer to Hoseok to press a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Me too,” Hoseok confessed in a whisper, resting his head atop Kihyun’s.

They stayed like that for a while, snuggled up against each other and absently sipping on their tea, just basking in the moment. He wished Hyunwoo was there too to share the quiet bliss they were experiencing, but he figured they would have another chance later once they were properly settled in their new apartment.

It was easy to forget what those little moments of intimacy felt like, the simplicity of being together, exchanging tender touches and quiet words. It had been their normal, once, to have moments like those - moments where they felt like the lovers they were, and not— brothers. They had grown so distant that sometimes it was easy to believe that the lie they created to protect themselves was the truth. Kihyun didn’t want to forget that feeling, not again.

With Hoseok abstaining from physical displays of affection due to the fear of spreading his illness, Hyunwoo acting skittish and secretive, and Kihyun being constantly stressed, they desperately needed reminders such as that, that the spark was still there. To remember that he was wanted, and to remind Hyunwoo and Hoseok that he wanted them, too.

“I love you,” Kihyun whispered against Hoseok’s neck, the sensitive skin coming alive with goosebumps under his lips.

“I love you too,” Hoseok said back, his free hand finding Kihyun’s to thread their fingers together.

Kihyun smiled against his skin and gave him a kiss just under the ear before he pulled slightly away. “I should really get up now, before I’m tempted to stay here all day.”

“I’d be tempted to stay here all day with you,” Hoseok agreed, and in one motion tossed back the remnants of his tea. Kihyun chuckled at the display. “Want to take a bath?”

“Mhm,” Kihyun hummed to confirm as he finished his own tea - in a much more refined manner -, asking once he was done, “will you join me?”

“Absolutely,” Hoseok agreed and, after kissing Kihyun on the cheek one more time, he got up. “I’ll just wash these and be right over.”

Hoseok took both mugs and shuffled back to the kitchen, and Kihyun decided to get up before he gave up on his plan of taking a bath and went back to sleep - sluggish as he felt, he would likely sleep the day away, and that wouldn’t do. Blanket wrapped around his shoulders so he could maintain a smidge of decency, Kihyun begrudgingly rose from the recliner and began making his way to the bathroom - that is, until the third step, when the finicky neat freak in him decided it had had enough of the mess they’d left on the living room floor.

Kihyun huffed and shook his head judgmentally, bending down to pick up their discarded clothes from the floor. Sure, they had been preoccupied the night before, but what kind of animals were they that they couldn’t contain their urges for two seconds to fold their clothes? They were meant to be civilized people, it was the 19th century, not the Stone Age.

He hung a shirt over his arm - it looked like his own, something that made him judge his last-night-self that much harder - and then a pair of pants - Hoseok’s - and another shirt - also Hoseok’s. When he picked up Hyunwoo’s sturdy grey coat, Kihyun paused, seeing the sleeves turned inside out; it was unacceptable, he had to fix that or it would bother him for the rest of the day. He fixed his grip on the clothes hanging from his arm so they wouldn’t slip and fall back to the ground, wrapped the blanket around himself as to not be standing in the middle of the living room buck naked folding clothes - oh, the irony - and impatiently began pulling the sleeves of the coat back out, the way they were supposed to be.

Once he was done, he let out a happy, satisfied sigh, and started patting the pockets in search of anything Hyunwoo had most definitely left behind - pennies, empty candy wrappers, sometimes the candy without any wrappers which would then melt and be impossible to remove later, keys—

Kihyun noticed one of the pockets bulging and hummed, praising himself in his thoughts for knowing his two boyfriends so well, before he shoved his hand inside that pocket without ceremony. He pulled out an old, yellowed handkerchief, and it was with a lot of effort that he didn’t scream and throw it across the room.

There was blood in that handkerchief.

Kihyun tried to focus through his panic, tried to get past his initial assumptions; there were plenty of good reasons why Hyunwoo would have a bloody handkerchief in his pocket. It could belong to Hoseok, for one, which was the most plausible explanation since Hoseok could have asked Hyunwoo to hold on to it for him the night before - did Hoseok’s coat have pockets? Maybe it didn’t and that’s why he asked Hyunwoo to carry it. Yes. Perfectly reasonable.

It could not even be _ that _ sort of blood at all. Maybe Hyunwoo cut himself somewhere, perhaps during his work at the docks or the market, and just— forgot that he put the handkerchief in his pocket. He could have had a nosebleed, or maybe helped someone else who had a nosebleed.

Plenty of perfectly good explanations.

If he asked Hoseok, he would probably tell him ‘yes, that’s mine’, so all he had to do was call Hoseok and ask if—

He heard Hoseok cough in the kitchen. Not one of his coughing fits, there was no wheezing or gasping for air, just a simple cough that lasted only a couple of seconds, but that was enough of a reminder. If Hoseok wasn’t the owner of that handkerchief, then Kihyun would rather not worry him; Hoseok would immediately assume the worst, would start to beat himself up, blame himself for something that wasn’t even confirmed yet.

No. Kihyun couldn’t tell him. Not until he had more proof.

He schooled his expression into one of neutrality, willed his thunderous heartbeat to slow. Just another thing he would have to swallow down, another dose of poison. He would rather let it kill him slowly than to cause unnecessary pain to either of his loves. That burden was only his to carry.

Breathing in deep and slow to calm himself, Kihyun pushed the handkerchief back into the coat’s pocket, set on pretending he hadn’t seen it - it was the best course of action for now. He had to proceed carefully, had to make sure Hoseok was spared for as long as possible. Confronting Hyunwoo was out of the question - Hyunwoo would put his defenses up and not offer any answers, and they could never hide when they were fighting from Hoseok. No, if he wanted to find out what was happening, Kihyun would have to catch Hyunwoo red-handed, leave him no room to sidestep and run.

He needed a plan.

For the moment, though, he continued to collect the clothes from the floor as calmly as he could, until Hoseok reappeared in the living room. Hoseok laughed at the sight.

“You could have left those for later.”

Kihyun didn’t stop picking up the clothes - the longer he avoided direct eye contact with Hoseok, the better. It gave him more time to get himself under control. “We already left it for ‘later’ last night, how drunk did you two get me that I didn’t say anything?”

“Oh, you weren’t drunk at all and you said plenty,” Hoseok replied. “We just did a great job distracting you, that’s all.”

Kihyun sighed and straightened himself up once he collected the last item of clothing, giving Hoseok an unimpressed sideways glance. “Next time, I’ll make both of you fold and put away all our clothes before you even think about ‘distracting’ me.”

“I’m alright with that,” Hoseok said, making his way to the bathroom as Kihyun moved to put their clothes inside one of the luggage trunks - they had packed almost everything already, so putting the clothes in a drawer would be counter-productive. “We all know tidiness is your biggest turn on.”

Kihyun decided to ignore the comment. “Just start filling up the tub, will you?”

“Yes, my love,” Hoseok singsonged from the bathroom.

Kihyun took another moment to gather himself, push down the part of him that was on the edge of a meltdown, and only when he felt he was in control of his emotions did he join Hoseok for their bath.

◦ ◦ ◦

Changkyun arrived at the mansion around midmorning. He could have arrived earlier - _ wanted _ to have arrived earlier - but Mr. Brian decided that it was the perfect day to give him the third degree about why he was asking to borrow his horses so much. Changkyun had to sit there and try to lie his way out of it, and whenever he wasn’t coming up with good excuses he had to listen to Mr. Brian go on and on and on about the misadventures he’d been through in his youth and whoever knows how many ‘when-I-was-your-ages’.

He survived, somehow. And it didn’t matter anymore - he was finally there.

As Hyungwon had instructed, Changkyun went around the mansion to the servants’ wing, where the side door was located and, after debating for a moment if he should knock or just show himself in, he pushed it open and peeked inside. It opened into a short hallway, empty at the moment, so Changkyun quietly entered and crept towards the kitchen - the grand tour Hyungwon had given him during his last visit to the mansion sure came in handy.

The kitchen door was not closed all the way, and from the slight opening, he could see that the ladies there were busy with their respective tasks, talking amongst each other and laughing, not realizing Changkyun was there.

Probably a good time to announce himself.

He knocked on the door with his knuckles and cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”

The woman closest to the door looked up at him, one he remembered Hyungwon introducing him to - the head cook, Mrs. Kim. She smiled when their eyes met and motioned him inside with a hand, not dropping what she was doing to greet him.

“There you are, we were told you were coming,” she said as Changkyun sheepishly entered the kitchen. “You can take a seat over there, master Hyungwon should be here shortly.”

Changkyun made his way to the seat indicated to him, across the table from where the ladies were working, and sat down in the most unobtrusive way possible. He looked around curiously, trying to be subtle; they seemed to be preparing— snacks. Finger sandwiches, cakes, biscuits. At least, that’s what Mrs. Kim and her first kitchen maid were doing. He spotted the scullery maid setting aside assorted items of cutlery and plates, while the second kitchen maid - Kyla, the one he was already used to seeing around - was cutting what looked to be fruits. Changkyun couldn’t see very well from where he was sitting. Could be vegetables.

Changkyun had been to the kitchens before, yes, but when he was there last they weren’t working at their full speed - perhaps because Guhn hadn’t been home and, thus, the amount of labor was reduced. He had to admit, he was impressed by their efficiency. They seemed to have an entire system in place, going about their tasks with a precision that betrayed their practice.

Mrs. Kim noticed Changkyun’s attention and laughed. “My, young man, are you out of your element.”

Changkyun had the decency to blush. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

“That’s quite alright,” she said. “It’s very refreshing, in fact. We don’t get many visitors in the kitchens.”

“Oh? Not even the other servants?”

“Not a one,” she replied. She finished cutting another batch of cake and began stacking it neatly on a plate. “Master Hyungwon is the only one who comes here to see us. Says he gets lonely.”

Changkyun wasn’t sure if he found the information sad or adorable. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yes, well, I’m quite sure he only does so to steal some snacks between meals, but he’s kind enough to lie to us,” she said, and there was a fondness in her voice. “Mr. Guhn never set foot in the kitchens, though. He might as well not even know what the servants’ wing looks like.”

“So there is no chance he’ll accidentally find me here?” Changkyun felt like he should ask.

The question had all four women laughing.

“Mr. Guhn would burst into flame if he ever came here,” said the first kitchen maid. Changkyun had to grind his memory to remember her name - Sally? Amy?

“Not even Mr. Guhn’s valet comes here,” Kyla informed. “If he wants anything, he either asks from the door or he sends one of the footmen over in his stead.”

“So Hyungwon coming here is strange?”

“It’s unusual,” Mrs. Kim replied. “Then again, our young master is quite the unusual person himself.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “I take it you like Hyungwon better than Guhn.”

A wave of enthusiastic words of confirmation hit him as a reply.

“We luckily don’t have to deal with Mr. Guhn much,” Sally-or-Amy said. “We rarely ever see him. Kyla ends up running into him more often since she personally delivers master Hyungwon’s tea.”

“Is that strange too?”

“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Kim replied. “It’s one of the few specifications he gave us - he asks that we prepare and take the tea to him ourselves, no middlemen involved. Says he’s afraid of tampering.”

Changkyun frowned. “Tampering?”

Mrs. Kim gave him a shrug. “He’s quite paranoid.”

Changkyun thought back on how Hyungwon said he carried the keys to his bedroom and study with him everywhere, so that Guhn didn’t have access to his personal spaces - the fear of his tea being tampered with, however, painted a much different picture than Hyungwon simply wishing for privacy. The only conclusion Changkyun could possibly reach was that Hyungwon worried Guhn might poison him, somehow.

“But he trusts you,” Changkyun declared, to which Mrs. Kim smiled in response.

“He does. He handpicked us to work here, in fact.”

“Is he a good employer?”

“He’s very generous,” Kyla said. “Very kind, too. He treats us all very well.”

Changkyun couldn’t help a satisfied smile at the information - he heard someone say, once, that if one wants to know the character of a person, they should look at how they treat their servants.

“What about Guhn?” he asked. “Is he a good employer?”

“He’s very rude,” the scullery maid said. “The housemaids complain he’s been inappropriate with them.”

“Inappropriate how?”

“He made— indecent advances,” she supplied, shy, and went right back to her task.

“He tends to shout a lot, as well,” Sally-or-Amy said. “We can hear him yelling all the way from here sometimes. To master Hyungwon, mostly.”

Changkyun scowled at the top of the table. “Yes, I’ve witnessed such a thing before.”

“Makes his headaches that much worse,” Kyla added with a sigh.

Changkyun knew he would sound far too nosy if he asked, but he had to know. “What does he usually shout at Hyungwon about?”

“Money, their business, master Hyungwon’s behavior, terms of their contract,” Kyla listed. “I am of the opinion that he simply enjoys shouting.”

Changkyun couldn’t keep from laughing at that. After he recovered, he asked in a serious tone, “I— this might sound strange, or too forward, but— do you know if Guhn has ever hurt Hyungwon?”

Kyla, again, was the one to reply. “He grabs his arms often, be it to shake him or to drag him along to wherever he wishes to go. I haven’t seen anything past that.”

That added up to what Hyungwon had told him the previous night, of how Guhn had grabbed him a few times, but hadn’t, so far, downright struck him. Though he didn’t think Hyungwon was lying about it, it was very good to have confirmation.

“Master Hyungwon is quite weak physically,” Mrs. Kim said with a wistful sigh. “Not much he can do to defend himself. Mr. Guhn practices boxing, you see. He’s in very good shape.”

Changkyun pursed his lips. He was liking that information less and less. “Did anything like that happen last night?”

“They arrived home after we had already retired for the night, so we didn’t see anything,” said Sally-or-Amy. “One of the housemaids mentioned they didn’t arrive together, though.”

“They didn’t?” Changkyun asked. “I’m positive Hyungwon left with Guhn.”

“If they did, they split up somewhere along the way,” Mrs. Kim said.

Changkyun debated for a second whether or not to mention anything, not sure if his well-meaning intentions wouldn’t end up doing more harm than good, but he figured it would be safer to have someone else aware of what was going on, someone who could be around Hyungwon when Changkyun himself couldn’t. That was the reasoning that tipped the scales of his decision.

“Guhn hit him last night.”

All four women halted everything they were doing, the first time they’d stopped performing their tasks since he’d arrived, and turned around to stare at him wide-eyed.

So they didn’t know. Just as he thought.

“He did what?” Mrs. Kim demanded.

“He hit Hyungwon,” Changkyun repeated. “Slapped him right across the face, I saw it happen.”

“I’m spitting in Mr. Guhn’s food today, none of you can stop me,” declared Sally-or-Amy.

“None of us will try,” the scullery maid guaranteed.

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Kim muttered nervously to herself, smoothing her apron with her hands and looking around as if at a loss. “He didn’t mention anything to us. Not that I believe he would have, why would he discuss such matters with us servants, but— Oh, dear.”

“He’s in a very good mood today, though,” Kyla added, uncertain. “If he’s been hit, he’s not upset about it.”

“What of Guhn? Did he seem odd to you?” Changkyun asked.

“I’ve only seen him for a moment,” Kyla answered. “He was very withdrawn. That in itself is strange, he is usually very loud and assertive.”

“Did you mean ‘obnoxious’?” Sally-or-Amy said snidely. He liked her - he really had to learn her name.

“Now, girls, we shouldn’t be speaking of our masters in such a way,” Mrs. Kim reprimanded them, to which they muttered not-so-sincere apologies before going back to work. Turning to Changkyun, she said, “We don’t make a habit of speaking of our masters’ private affairs, so everything you heard must remain here in the kitchens. If any of this reaches the housemaids, the entire city will be talking about it in a matter of minutes. They sure know how to wag their tongues.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t say a word,” Changkyun promised earnestly. “I would never do anything that could harm Hyungwon in any way, and that includes his reputation.”

“Very good,” Mrs. Kim said, nodding to herself as she returned to her task of plating the cakes. “Master Hyungwon mentioned you are trustworthy, that is the only reason why we felt comfortable saying so much.”

Changkyun perked up in his seat. “He talked about me?”

“Oh, certainly,” she said with laughter in her voice. “He’s very fond of you.”

There was no helping the smile that spread over his lips.

From then on, the conversation veered into less upsetting topics; Changkyun indulged in his curiosity and asked many questions about the ladies’ duties at the mansion, how daily life was, how much food they had to make every day. Changkyun had been expecting some of it, but was still shocked to hear some of the replies - the amount of food, for instance. Four meals a day for Hyungwon and Guhn, plus four entirely different sets of meals for the over twenty servants. _ Over twenty servants _.

Changkyun had to ask himself if Hyungwon ever had to lift a finger to do anything with that many people catering to his every need. _ Must be nice _, Changkyun thought. Not having to pick up after himself, or worry about what or when to eat, not having to clean or do laundry or get up at all - he had but to ring a bell and someone would be there to see to his wishes.

It wasn’t the first time Changkyun wondered at how lovely it would be to have such a lifestyle - fantasizing about a better life was something he did since he was very young, something he and Jooheon often talked about, joking about all the useless things they would get their servants to do for them. Jooheon was always fixated on the image of someone feeding him grapes.

He’d stolen from places such as that mansion before, from people who were even wealthier than Hyungwon, but it was the first time Changkyun was faced with the possibility of _ actually _ partaking in that lifestyle instead of looking at it from the sidelines, as a spectator.

It felt rather overwhelming.

Hyungwon wasn’t a means to an end, of course - Changkyun was entirely convinced he would still feel the same way about him even if Hyungwon was a penniless street rat such as himself. It was, however, a very nice benefit that came with being with Hyungwon. He felt terrible thinking like that, but the truth was still the truth, no matter how much he tried to sugarcoat it.

Hyungwon loved him. Hyungwon was filthy rich. Both of those things were facts.

Changkyun loved Hyungwon. Changkyun was dirt poor. Those were also facts.

Did it make him such a terrible person for wishing for a better life, for hoping it would be delivered to him by the hands of his lover? He didn’t think so. His feelings for Hyungwon were as genuine as they come, but Changkyun was a pragmatic man. He would never ask Hyungwon for anything, would never presume to consider himself deserving of his wealth, but if Hyungwon were to offer—

What kind of idiot would he be to deny it?

That was the topic his thoughts were swirling around when Hyungwon finally made his appearance, entering the kitchen with no ceremony like he owned it - which he did, in retrospect. Changkyun’s face lit up at the sight of him and, after a quick once over, he found that Hyungwon looked alright - no immediate signs of distress or any new bruises he could spot at first glance. As Kyla stated, he appeared to be in a good mood. 

“Good morning,” he said to the ladies, all smiles, receiving enthusiastic good morning wishes from them. His smile widened when he met Changkyun’s eyes. “I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

“It’s no trouble, I was here trying to win over your staff,” Changkyun quipped. The ladies giggled.

Hyungwon rolled his eyes, smile still in place as he moved around the kitchen with the sure movements of one who was used to doing so, collecting items from each of the women. “I should have known you’d try to charm my servants. It’s good, though,” he shot Changkyun a sideways glance before adding, “they will be seeing a lot of you in the near future.”

If that wasn’t enough for Changkyun to feel giddy, Mrs. Kim went ahead and added, “Goodness, let me know which foods he likes and I’ll prepare them next time.”

“I’ll give you a detailed list later on,” Hyungwon promised; Changkyun could tell he was serious. Turning to him, Hyungwon said, “Let’s go?”

Changkyun nodded in response and hopped off his chair so he could follow Hyungwon, who was taking the last item from Sally-or-Amy - a very large, very obvious picnic basket. How did he miss that?

“Thank you, ladies,” he chirped. “I won’t be coming back for lunch today.”

“Very well, dear, do enjoy yourselves,” Mrs. Kim said to both Hyungwon and Changkyun, and, after giving her a noisy kiss on the cheek, Hyungwon made his way out of the kitchen. Changkyun only had time to thank and say farewell to the women before he hurried after him.

Hyungwon led him through the door that opened to the same short hallway Changkyun crossed upon his arrival, extending his hand to him the moment the kitchen door closed behind them. Changkyun gladly held his hand and, just before they opened the side door that let outside, Changkyun stopped Hyungwon by tugging on his hand, only so he could surge up to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“Hi,” Changkyun said once they parted, grinning smugly at Hyungwon who was obviously flustered at the sudden action.

Trying to hold back a smile, Hyungwon murmured a bashful ‘hi’ in return, and just like that, they were off. Changkyun was expecting Hyungwon to take him to the gardens again, but instead of going around the mansion to the gardens, Hyungwon led him straight ahead, away from the mansion and into the moor, towards the line of trees in the distance.

“Where are we going?” Changkyun asked.

“Somewhere nice,” Hyungwon replied.

Changkyun huffed and rolled his eyes. Of course Hyungwon wouldn’t give him a plain answer. “Where is this ‘somewhere nice’?”

“Not far.”

“Not what I asked.”

“Stop trying to ruin the surprise,” Hyungwon chided, laughter in his voice.

“Is it some old graveyard or anything morbid like that? Because I will have to prepare myself mentally.”

Hyungwon gave him an unimpressed look from the corners of his eyes. “No, it’s not a graveyard. There is, in fact, a small cemetery on the property, but that’s somewhere north from here. We’re headed west.”

“I feel like I should be surprised there is a cemetery on your property, but at this point, I’m learning to expect anything.”

“That’s the spirit,” Hyungwon said, chipper, and after that they fell into a comfortable silence, walking across the moor and its lavender shrubs, the clusters of bright wildflowers, hands joined and fingers entwined.

It felt so— idyllic. Such a screaming contrast to the note they parted on the night before, with Changkyun concerned about Hyungwon’s well-being, Hyungwon still upset over being struck, the emotional revelation of their feelings towards each other. Hyungwon looked, for all intents and purposes, perfectly fine; his good mood itself was strange, considering what happened.

Changkyun filed all those questions for later, for when they reached wherever it was Hyungwon was leading him to, when they were properly settled down and could talk about it calmly. For the moment, he just enjoyed the company, the nice weather, being able to hold Hyungwon’s hand openly, the little tidbits of banter they exchanged from time to time. He never thought it would be so easy - get to know Hyungwon, confess his feelings, have those feelings returned.

Too easy.

Good things didn’t simply drop from the sky, at least not in his experience. He couldn’t help the thought that things would turn sour, likely sooner than later.

It took less than ten minutes for them to reach the tree line, and Hyungwon led him down an overgrown path with the ease of someone who’d done that before. It wasn’t an obvious path, clearly not utilized much, so Changkyun assumed it was one of Hyungwon’s many little secrets.

“Let me guess,” he said. “You come here when you need to escape.”

Hyungwon raised an eyebrow at him, a pleased smile on his lips. “Am I that obvious?”

“In certain aspects, yes,” Changkyun said, then motioned towards the basket Hyungwon was carrying. “Here, let me hold it for the rest of the way.”

Hyungwon gladly handed over the basket. “Thank you.”

“I must admit, I didn’t take you for the picnic type,” he said, fixing his grip on the basket once he took it from Hyungwon - that thing was heavier than it looked.

“I’m usually not. Having a picnic by myself would be quite sad,” Hyungwon replied. “I wanted us to do something nice today, though.”

“Aw, my poor lonely kitten,” Changkyun cooed and brought Hyungwon’s hand up to his lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. Hyungwon laughed and pushed him lightly in retaliation. “I put myself at your disposal - whenever you want to have a picnic, I’m your man.”

Hyungwon laughed through his nose, amused. “The reason is irrelevant - you’re simply mine. For everything and anything.”

Changkyun smiled up at him. “I am.”

The rest of their walk was short, the path clear enough that they were able to reach their destination in only a few minutes. Changkyun immediately understood why Hyungwon enjoyed going there so much.

There was a stream there, not too wide, the waters running lazily along, and only a couple of feet away from the stream sat an old, dilapidated gazebo. There were some holes on the roof, likely from taking too much punishment from the elements, but the lack of debris on the hexagonal floor below indicated someone had cleaned it up - Hyungwon? He couldn’t say he believed it. Hyungwon didn’t look like the type to clean old gazebos in the middle of the woods; he probably had one of his twenty-plus servants perform that task for him.

Upon climbing the steps to the gazebo, Changkyun noticed the stone bench at the far back, facing the stream, the dried up vines climbing up the posts. He wondered what that place looked like when it was brand new, no holes in the roof, bright flowers on the posts, the iron panels and rails without any signs of rust or corrosion.

There was still beauty there - beauty in decay, beauty in the passage of time. That was more in tune with what Changkyun learned to associate to Hyungwon; he wouldn’t trade the dried up vines for fresh flowers even if someone paid him to.

He dropped the basket on the bench and Hyungwon almost immediately had it open, revealing the veritable feast held within. Roast beef sandwiches, cream puffs, doughnuts with cheese, gingerbread cake, fruit turnovers, cheesecakes. He could spot a container with assorted sliced fruits - strawberries, bananas, apples, pears. There were little glass bottles lined up on one side, but Changkyun couldn’t tell what they held.

While Changkyun explored the many options of food, Hyungwon had taken upon himself to place the square tablecloth - made of red and white checkered fabric, because _ of course _ \- on the ground. Changkyun shook his head and huffed a little laugh; that entire situation felt unreal, somehow.

Hyungwon heard his laughter and turned around to face him. “What? Not to your liking?”

“On the contrary,” Changkyun replied and diligently took the basket from the bench to place it atop the cloth on the ground. “This feels too good to be true.”

“Well, it’s true. I’m not sure what to tell you,” Hyungwon said with a little shrug.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” he said, taking Hyungwon’s hand to pull him closer. “I’m just happy.”

That certainly worked to have Hyungwon smiling again. “I’m happy too.”

As he pulled Hyungwon to him, Changkyun took notice for the first time that he was wearing one of the items he’d seen in his mourning jewelry collection a few days ago - the scorpion cameo pendant. It was secured close to his neck by a black satin ribbon, atop the high collar of his lace undershirt. Changkyun arched an eyebrow at him.

“You’re wearing the human bone necklace.”

Hyungwon blinked and looked down to his pendant - not that he could see it from that angle. “Yes. Does it bother you?”

“No, it’s—” Changkyun started but didn’t know how to finish, opening and closing his mouth a few times like a fish out of water. He finally settled on saying, “Surprising.”

“I was reminded recently of how fond I am of this piece,” Hyungwon said, touching the pendant with his fingertips. Changkyun wasn’t sure how he felt about the sight of Hyungwon touching the bones of some long-deceased person so callously, with his bare hands.

“I thought your collection was for decoration purposes. To be on display,” Changkyun admitted.

“It is,” Hyungwon easily agreed. “It doesn’t mean I can’t wear them. They’re all perfectly functional jewelry.” One corner of his lips twitched then, quirking up into a wicked little smirk. “You can borrow them if you wish.”

Changkyun jolted and shook his head. “Uh, thank you, but— no, thank you.”

Hyungwon laughed. “You are adorable.”

“Shut up,” Changkyun whined and sat down on one corner of the cloth, pulling Hyungwon along with him with the sole purpose of taking his attention away from how flustered the comment made him. “Why this piece, though?”

Hyungwon hummed, pondering over the answer for a moment before he said, “Let me put it this way: if you gathered all of my wealth and all of my possessions, it would not come close to the sentimental value this pendant holds for me.”

Now _ that _ caught Changkyun’s interest. “May I ask why?”

Hyungwon gave him a soft, tight-lipped smile as he reached into the basket to rummage through its contents. “You may. I won’t answer, though.”

“Why not?” Changkyun insisted, voice just the slightest bit whiny.

“I’ll tell you someday, when the time is right,” Hyungwon said and pulled one of the bottles from the basket, handing it to Changkyun. “Here, I think this one is wine. All for you.”

Changkyun clucked his tongue, annoyed, but did accept the wine. “Trying to distract me with alcohol will get you nowhere.”

“I’m not trying to distract you,” Hyungwon said, laughing. “I already said I’ll tell you about the pendant someday.”

“Fine,” Changkyun said as he opened the bottle. Instead of taking a sip, he first offered it to Hyungwon. “Want some?”

“No, thank you. I don’t drink alcohol,” Hyungwon said, the words coming out easily as it was something he probably had to say a lot.

“You don’t?”

“No. It makes my headaches worse and I detest being inebriated. Makes it harder to keep the ghosts away.”

“Oh,” Changkyun said smartly. “More alcohol for me, then.”

Hyungwon chuckled and shook his head, reaching into the basket to pull out an empty glass for him. “Here, enjoy.”

“I could drink it straight from the bottle, you know,” Changkyun said and then sighed in that affected way that made it seem like Hyungwon was making his life very difficult before he accepted the glass and poured some wine into it. “I suppose I can pretend to be fancy for you.”

Hyungwon huffed, taking another bottle and another glass from the basket, these for himself. “You should get used to it.”

The words were spoken in such an ominous way Changkyun almost choked on his wine - properly poured into the glass, held with his pinky sticking out. “Pardon?”

“Nothing,” Hyungwon chirped, daintily leaving his beverage and still empty cup aside and reaching into the basket to start taking out the various containers of food and place them neatly on the cloth.

Changkyun sighed and put down his glass, before he ended up spilling wine all over himself. “You are so very full of secrets today.”

“You have already kissed me, there’s only so much I can do now to keep you interested,” Hyungwon said, and Changkyun almost replied with how that was nonsense, meaning to be as earnest as possible about it, but before he could say anything he caught sight of the amused smile on Hyungwon’s face.

He was teasing him. Of course he was.

“You’ll be the death of me.”

“Possibly,” Hyungwon said, his smile widening. “A little death never killed anybody, though.”

“You— Did you just—” Changkyun spluttered and Hyungwon laughed at his reaction. Wicked little thing he was. “Hyungwon!”

Hyungwon was still laughing, so Changkyun did the only thing that he knew could shut him up and pulled him unceremoniously into a kiss. Hyungwon went easily, as he always did, and before long they had moved away from the cloth and were sitting directly on the floor, Changkyun with his back resting against the stone bench and Hyungwon cozily nestled between his legs, leaning against him just the slightest bit sideways so they could continue to— well. Kiss.

Kissing Hyungwon was quite addictive, Changkyun had learned.

“Your lips taste like wine,” Hyungwon murmured against his lips between one kiss and the next. “I hate it.”

“You hate it but you keep kissing me,” Changkyun pointed out, and Hyungwon smiled into their next kiss.

“Because I love you more than I hate wine.”

The noise Changkyun made was so strange and so high pitched he would likely not be able to replicate it if he tried for a thousand years. Hyungwon only laughed at him. “If you keep saying that out of the blue I’ll have a heart attack.”

Hyungwon pinched Changkyun’s cheek and pulled it slightly, before saying in a whiny tone, “You have to say it back, you little mongrel.”

“Oh, I went from a mouse to a mongrel? I’m truly moving up in life,” Changkyun quipped and, after kissing Hyungwon one more time, just a peck, said, “I love you too.”

Hyungwon beamed at him, his face lighting up with joy, and Changkyun couldn’t help but kiss him all over, whatever stretch of skin he could reach. He spent a little more time kissing his cheek, the one that Guhn had struck the night before - it was still smooth and unmarred as it always had been, no contusions or bumps to indicate he was ever hit at all.

Changkyun stroked Hyungwon’s cheek with his thumb, softly, gently, and Hyungwon smiled at him. “I told you it wouldn’t bruise.”

He huffed, not finding the topic cute or funny at all, and asked, “Did he hit you again?”

Hyungwon shook his head. “No. And he won’t strike me anymore.”

“How do you know?” Changkyun pressed.

“I made it clear to him there will be consequences if he does,” he replied simply, and didn’t offer any other explanation beyond that. Changkyun wanted to ask - Hyungwon wouldn’t answer, though. Not in the secretive mood he was that day.

“Did he yell at you, then?”

“He tried,” Hyungwon admitted, just as he shifted in Changkyun’s arms so he could recline against him, back to his chest. Changkyun allowed him to do so, adjusting his hold on him so they were both comfortable. “I didn’t let him, though. I have you to thank for that.”

Changkyun frowned. “Thank me?”

“Mhm,” Hyungwon hummed in response. “For reminding me I’m not helpless.”

Hyungwon saying so aloud made Changkyun think that, indeed, something about Hyungwon had shifted. He was more confident, in a way - not the usual arrogant sort of confidence he usually displayed, but something more genuine. As if he knew something that everyone else didn’t, sure of every single step he took for knowing exactly where it would land. Whatever part Changkyun had played in that change, he was happy to see Hyungwon stand up for himself.

“I’m not sure how I achieved such a feat, but you’re welcome, I suppose,” Changkyun replied. “I was worried. He seemed very angry the last time I saw him, I was certain he would continue to punish you.”

“As I said, he tried,” Hyungwon reiterated, head now tipped back to rest on Changkyun’s shoulder.

“He wasn’t the only one angry after all that happened last night,” Changkyun said, nosing at the side of Hyungwon’s neck, just above the line of his collar. He smelled more of flowers than honey that day, he vaguely noted - still sweet, though. “Minhyuk was livid.”

Hyungwon barked a loud laugh, delighted. “Oh, I know he was.”

“From what Jooheon told me, Minhyuk is set on proving you’re a fraud.”

“I know that too,” Hyungwon said. “It’ll be very amusing. His tenacity is almost as impressive as his promiscuity.”

It was Changkyun’s turn to laugh out loud. “You are terrible.” Hyungwon grinned up at him, smug as if he’d just gotten a compliment. Changkyun shook his head, infinitely fond, and said, “Your clever tongue will get you in trouble someday.”

“It won’t,” Hyungwon replied, sure as always.

A good segue for a topic Changkyun always wanted to know more about.

“How do you do it?” Changkyun asked. “See the future, I mean.”

Hyungwon hummed contemplatively, stirring in Changkyun’s arms the slightest bit as he pondered over the answer. “To answer that, I have to explain time,” Hyungwon said after a few moments. “Time is— it’s not linear. Time is a multitude of layers, as is reality. Layer, upon layer, upon layer. Past, present, future, it all folds together. Our perception of it is limited, much like seeing a piece of art from very up close - you only see a portion of it, unless you step back to take in the entire work.”

Changkyun took a moment to process that information, turn it around in his head, make sense of it; Hyungwon allowed him the time to do so, patiently waiting for him to speak again. “Does that mean you can see the entire work? All the layers?”

“Not quite,” he replied. Changkyun took to playing with the hem of Hyungwon’s lace undershirt, the portion of it that peeked out from under his sleeve. It was black, that day - Hyungwon looked very good in black lace. “On my own, my perception of time is the same as everyone else’s. The spirits, however, exist in a different plane of reality and thus, can see more than we can.”

“So the spirits are the ones who can see the future?” Changkyun asked.

“In a way. It’s an exchange of favors - as they can use my mouth to speak, so can I use their eyes to see.”

“What is it like?”

Hyungwon licked his lips, watched Changkyun play with his undershirt sleeve for a few seconds, before softly whispering, “Frightening.”

Changkyun’s immediate reaction was to wrap his arms around Hyungwon, a flimsy way of defending him - how could he externally protect him from that which reigned inside his head? “And here I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”

“If you think I’m afraid of ghosts, that is not the case,” Hyungwon said, nose brushing the side of his neck. “What frightens me is— the loss of control.” That revelation was so eerie, so ominous, Changkyun’s blood might as well have been icy water in his veins. “My fear is that, someday, they will fully take over and I will no longer have any control over myself. I will no longer be me.”

“Why do you continue to let them in, then?” Changkyun asked. “Why don’t you stop?”

“Everything in life is temporary,” Hyungwon replied; that answer did nothing to soothe Changkyun’s concerns.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he began, but paused to press a kiss to Changkyun’s cheek before continuing, “that you can stop worrying.”

Changkyun inhaled through his nose long and deep, staring down at Hyungwon with the most unamused expression he could muster. “How can you ask me not to worry after telling me you’re scared of losing yourself?”

“Because I’ve seen the future and it’s glorious,” Hyungwon said, grinning up at him; Changkyun wanted to pick him up and drop him in the stream.

“You are infuriating.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Changkyun had to take another deep breath to reel in his annoyance and digressed. “By that, I take all your mediunic powers are real.”

“Of course they are. Was that not clear by now?”

“I’m a skeptic, remember?” Changkyun said. “I’m almost tempted to demand you do that strange voice change act I saw you do the night we first met. The only thing that stops me is knowing you don’t enjoy doing it.”

“Oh, you would definitely _ not _ want to see that,” Hyungwon said, laughing, “it’s terrible. I don’t want to scare you away just yet.”

“I’ve seen it before, though. It’s not _ that _ scary.”

“You’ve seen me do it with a blindfold,” Hyungwon corrected him. “The blindfold is not merely meant for aesthetics, it’s also to keep the more unpleasant aspect of my little parlor trick hidden.”

“What, your eyes?”

“Yes. They roll all the way back and all you can see are the whites. It’s— not very attractive.”

Changkyun gave Hyungwon an unconvinced look before pressing his lips to his temple, a tender gesture despite still feeling like tossing Hyungwon into the stream. The water was probably very cold; maybe it would work to put some sense inside his head. “You would have to try incredibly hard for me not to find you attractive.”

“You only say that because you haven’t seen it,” Hyungwon replied matter-of-factly. “It would have you running for the hills.”

“Have some faith in me, love,” Changkyun said, tone bordering on teasing.

“I don’t need faith,” Hyungwon murmured, eyes glimmering, and surged up to kiss Changkyun sweetly; it was a brief meeting of their lips, a couple of seconds at most, but more than enough to have Changkyun’s head spinning. Once they parted, Hyungwon watched him for a moment, pensive, and said, “I won’t do the phantom voice trick, but… there might be something else I can do.”

Changkyun’s eyebrows shot up with interest. “What is it?”

Hyungwon looked around for a moment, towards the stream, before carefully freeing himself from Changkyun’s hold. Changkyun begrudgingly let him go and watched with curiosity as Hyungwon walked off the gazebo and closer to the stream, looking for something on the ground for a while before bending down to pick it up. Then he returned and plopped down on the ground next to Changkyun once again, which was when he found out what Hyungwon had been searching for - a small rock with ragged edges.

“What—”

“You’ll see,” Hyungwon interrupted him before he could finish the question, and using one of the sharpest sides of the rock, he scratched two words into the concrete floor of the gazebo - ‘yes’ and ‘no’, the words about a palm’s width away from each other.

That task done, Hyungwon flung the rock away without a care over the rail, next taking Changkyun’s half-full glass of wine from where he’d left it next to the picnic basket and— tossing its contents out the same direction he’d thrown the rock.

Changkyun gasped indignantly. “That was mine! At least use your own glass, yours is empty!”

“Yours was closer,” Hyungwon replied, obviously not caring at all about Changkyun’s outrage.

“Suit yourself, it’s _ your _ expensive wine you just threw out,” he mumbled, as if that would make Hyungwon feel guilty.

It didn’t. “Yes, and I have several more bottles of wine at the cellar back at the mansion.”

“You have a cellar!?”

Hyungwon looked over his shoulder at Changkyun with a little hitch between his brows. “Didn’t I mention it?” Then he shrugged, dismissing the topic, and went back to whatever he was doing, placing the now empty glass on the floor between the two words, upside down. “There, this will do.”

Hyungwon scooted on the floor, turned towards Changkyun, and motioned him to do the same so they could sit facing one another. Changkyun arched a quizzical brow at him, not entirely sure where he was going with all of that, but did as he wished.

Once they were settled, Hyungwon rested his forearms on his thighs, hands turned palm up to invite Changkyun to take them. He did. “I trust you’ve heard of ouija boards.”

“I have, actually,” he replied. “I heard they’re a great way to summon demons and evil spirits.”

“No such thing as evil spirits,” Hyungwon said. “Spirits are simply souls of people, and no person is entirely evil. There might be ill-intentioned spirits, yes, but not downright evil.”

“Alright, that makes me feel a little better,” Changkyun admitted. “What about demons?”

Hyungwon gave him a mysterious look paired with a secretive little smile and didn’t answer the question. Because of course he didn’t. “I will channel one of the ghosts. Feel free to ask questions when they arrive, but make sure they can be answered with a simple yes or no.”

“Can you choose the spirit to channel?” Changkyun asked, and indicated Hyungwon’s pendant with his head - he wasn’t letting that topic go so easily. He would bring it up at any opportunity he had. “Can you channel the owner of those bones?”

Hyungwon let go of one of Changkyun’s hands to, again, touch the pendant with his fingertips, a fond little gesture that had Changkyun feeling that old sting of jealousy. With a barely contained smile, Hyungwon said, “Even if I could, she’s not available.”

‘She’, huh? ‘She’ better be his sister or something.

And why was he getting jealous of a _ dead _person!?

“How is she not available? Are ghosts very busy in the afterlife?” Changkyun asked, his bitterness clear in his tone, and Hyungwon laughed at him.

“So full of questions today.”

“And you’re so empty of answers today.”

“Just because I’m not giving you answers today, it doesn’t mean I never will,” he pointed out and took Changkyun’s hand again. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know and beyond when the right time comes, exactly like I said I would. Now, do you want to do this or not?”

Changkyun glared at the cameo for a second longer, something that seemed to amuse Hyungwon greatly for some god-forsaken reason, before he finally said, “Yes, I want to do this.”

Hyungwon stared at him, as if searching for any sign Changkyun wasn’t sure, before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to focus. Changkyun fidgeted where he sat, chewing on his tongue. He should let it go. Hyungwon was going to tell him eventually. He knew he would, he could feel it as a certainty scratching at the back of his mind. He didn’t have to be so concerned about it.

Yes. He should let it go.

“...When will the right time come?”

Hyungwon sighed and opened one eye to glare at him. “It’ll come when it comes, can I focus now, please?”

Changkyun pouted. “Fine.”

Hyungwon closed his eyes again. The seconds ticked by slowly, quietly, until Hyungwon spoke again.

“Stop staring at my necklace.”

“I’m not staring at your necklace,” Changkyun lied and rolled his eyes up, set on watching the sky through one of the holes on the roof instead. “I like my locket better anyway.”

He heard Hyungwon giggle and then there was quiet again. For several seconds, nothing happened; Changkyun was considering calling it off, tell Hyungwon he changed his mind, that they should go back to kissing instead. Kissing was good. They both enjoyed it. It felt like a much more productive way to spend their time than sitting there, cross-legged and holding hands, channeling ghosts that didn’t seem too inclined to give them attention.

Then the very air around them changed, became heavier, stifling. The hairs on the back of Changkyun’s neck stood on end, his heartbeat quickened. It reminded him of how he felt the night he met Hyungwon, as he was watching him perform his séance. He held Hyungwon’s hands tighter.

Hyungwon opened his eyes again - they looked normal, irises still there, not-quite-hazel as always - and glanced at the glass on the ground. Changkyun followed his gaze, unsure of what to do.

“Is there anyone here who wishes to speak?” Hyungwon asked the air around them.

Changkyun held his breath, watching the glass with rapt attention. It was so cold, why was it so cold?

A second went by, then another, and another. The glass didn’t move.

Changkyun slowly relaxed again and turned to Hyungwon. “Uh, maybe we should—”

“Shush, give it a moment,” Hyungwon said, still watching the glass.

“Maybe if you ask again—?”

“They heard me the first time.”

Changkyun huffed. “I’m cold.”

Hyungwon shot him a sideways look and a mischievous little smirk. “I’ll warm you up later.”

Changkyun nudged Hyungwon’s leg with his knee in retribution. “Shut up.”

“You tell me to shut up too much,” Hyungwon commented and sighed.

“Maybe because you talk too much.”

“What ever happened to ‘you could recite a grocery list and I would be interested’?” Hyungwon said wistfully. “Are the glory days of our relationship truly over this fast?”

“I just mean that—”

He was interrupted by a loud scraping sound and jumped, immediately looking over at the glass on the floor.

It was now sitting atop the word ‘yes’.

He looked up at Hyungwon, wide-eyed, jaw hanging open. “You— how? I’m holding both your hands!”

Hyungwon gave him a smug smile. “I told you to give it a second. You can ask your questions now.”

“It moved!” Changkyun insisted, as if that wasn’t obvious already. “The glass moved!”

“Yes, as it’s supposed to happen. Are you going to ask a question?”

“Uh— I—” he stammered. “What can I ask?”

“Anything,” Hyungwon replied with a little shrug. “Want me to start?”

“Please.”

Hyungwon agreed with a nod and laced their fingers together, a gesture meant to soothe him, before he asked out loud, “Are you willing to answer our questions?”

They didn’t have to wait long this time, the glass shifting over the word ‘yes’ briefly before stopping.

Changkyun jolted again, not expecting it to happen so fast. Hyungwon shot him a smile and asked, “Can Changkyun ask you anything he wants?” The glass shifted over the word ‘yes’ again. “Will you answer truthfully?”

‘Yes’.

Hyungwon motioned with his head at the glass, prompting Changkyun to ask something. “Go on. It’s perfectly safe.”

Changkyun took a deep breath. “Okay… Uhm—” He thought for a second. “Are you a demon?”

Hyungwon gave him an odd look just as the glass moved quickly from ‘yes’ to ‘no’.

“Are demons real?”

‘Yes’.

“So very curious about demons all of a sudden,” Hyungwon commented.

“I wouldn’t be if you had answered my question earlier,” Changkyun threw back and stuck out his tongue at him, the picture of maturity. Hyungwon laughed. “Is there an afterlife?”

‘Yes’.

“Is there a Hell?”

‘Yes’.

Changkyun’s eyes went wide and he turned to Hyungwon again. “Well. That got scary very fast.”

“Hell can have many definitions,” he said, gentle. “Not all of them are equal to fire and brimstone.”

“But they aren’t nice either, it’s called ‘hell’ for a reason.”

Hyungwon brought one of Changkyun’s hands up to his lips, pressed a kiss to its back. “Hell is not so bad with the right company.”

Changkyun huffed. “Stop trying to woo me while we’re talking to a ghost.”

Hyungwon giggled and agreed with a nod of his head. “Alright, forgive me. Please, continue.”

Changkyun gave Hyungwon one last look of warning before he focused on the glass again. “Can you see the future?”

‘Yes’.

“Will Hyungwon ever tell me his secrets?” he asked, to which Hyungwon let out a tired sigh.

The glass took a little longer to move this time, but yet again the answer was ‘yes’.

“Should I be worried?”

Unlike he was expecting, Hyungwon himself took the glass and placed it over the word ‘no’, holding it there with the tips of his index and middle fingers. When Changkyun raised his head to meet his eyes, he found that Hyungwon was already staring at him, intense and pleading.

“I told you I would never willingly put you in a risky situation,” he said; the sadness behind his voice made Changkyun’s insides twist with guilt. “Please, trust me.”

“I trust you, I just— I hate being in the dark,” Changkyun murmured, looking away when holding Hyungwon’s gaze proved too difficult.

“I know it sounds like an excuse, but I have my reasons for not being forthcoming with you right now,” Hyungwon said. “The things I have to tell you— you won’t believe them. Not yet.”

“I believe your ghosts, I believe you can see the future,” Changkyun listed, “what else do I have to believe in?”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point then?”

“It’s— Hold on,” Hyungwon said and removed his fingers from the glass, before saying. “We thank you for answering our questions, you are free to leave.”

The glass trembled for a moment and went still. Immediately Changkyun felt the air lift, felt less constricted, his breathing easier. He was still cold, though - he wanted to climb on Hyungwon’s lap, stay there for only a minute.

“There is so much more in the universe,” Hyungwon said quietly, “than ghosts and premonitions.”

“And how will I learn about all these things if you don’t tell me about them?”

“I _ will _,” Hyungwon said, on the edge of begging. “I’m just asking you to be patient.”

“All I want is to get to know you, but more and more I get the impression you don’t want me to.”

“I do, and you will,” Hyungwon urgently said, “but Kyun—”

“Kyun?” Changkyun interrupted, the nickname throwing him off for a second. “Are you trying to win this argument by being cute?”

Hyungwon rolled his eyes and let go of his hands, making to get up from the floor. “Forget I said anything.”

“No, no, wait,” Changkyun said, finally giving in to the urge to invade Hyungwon’s personal space by climbing on his lap - not to fight off the cold as he’d originally planned, but to keep him there. Hyungwon didn’t try to fight it, easily accepting Changkyun’s proximity. “I’m sorry. I do trust you.”

“It’s alright if you don’t,” Hyungwon said, not meeting his eyes even when Changkyun cupped his face and tried to coax him into doing so. “I am aware that I don’t inspire trust. I know too much and have too many secrets.”

“Look at me. Come on, baby, look at me,” Changkyun said sweetly, and that at least got Hyungwon looking at him again if it was to give him a puzzled look.

“‘Baby’?”

He ignored the question. “We can’t keep having the same argument over and over,” he said, serious as serious could be. “I trust you and I mean it. You say you’ll tell me everything, I believe you. This is— it’s all new to me, I’m only trying to figure out where I fit.”

“You see, _ baby_,” Hyungwon said, throwing the nickname right back at him, “this is exactly why I’m trying to keep the life-changing revelations to a minimum and administering them to you in small doses.”

Changkyun clamped his mouth shut. He just won the argument for Hyungwon, against his own self.

Brilliant.

“Are we on the same page now?” Hyungwon asked. “_Baby?” _

Changkyun could only sigh. “I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or if you actually liked being called that.”

“A little bit of both.”

“You little devil,” Changkyun said, half-hearted, only for the sake of saving face, and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Hyungwon’s mouth.

“Mhm, you have no idea,” Hyungwon said and smiled up at him, arms around him tight. “Can we enjoy our picnic now or is there something else bothering you, _ baby?” _

“Stop it,” Changkyun said, pouting. “I have about a thousand things I want to ask, but— they can wait.”

“Good, we’ve wasted too much time arguing already,” he said, nuzzling his nose lovingly. “All I wanted to do was spend the day with you, just us two, not— us, a ghost, and our insecurities.”

“We can do that now,” Changkyun said and kissed him one, two, three times - and a fourth time, just because. “One question, though.”

“Yes?”

“Is it safe to drink from that glass now or will I accidentally ingest a ghost?”

Hyungwon’s only reply was laughter.

◦ ◦ ◦

Minhyuk spent the entire morning and the better part of the afternoon running up and down making inquiries about Hyungwon - he even forgot to have lunch, which was something as rare for Minhyuk as seeing a rainbow during a sunny day. All of that effort proved to be a waste of time; nobody knew anything, nobody had even heard of him.

When Minhyuk referred to him as ‘the white-haired medium’, he’d gotten a few vague words of recognition, mostly he-said-she-said, but still nothing that could point him in the right direction. Everything he heard were mentions of how genuine all his séances were, how his predictions were scarily never wrong, some ladies swooning over how intriguing a character he was, how very handsome and elegant.

Minhyuk felt like vomiting anytime the latter happened.

And, of course, there were those who’d witnessed his shame the previous night and laughed in his face, saying he was just jealous of Hyungwon’s abilities, angry because Hyungwon was a better fortune teller than he was. Those people were _ definitely _ wrong - Minhyuk wasn’t jealous, he simply knew Hyungwon was a fraud and was trying to enlighten the people because he was such a good person.

He was doing a public service, it wasn’t _ personal _. Of course not.

After that incredibly frustrating day, Minhyuk came full circle to the first person he considered interviewing but the one he was dreading talking to the most: Jooheon.

If there was anyone who could tell him _ something _ useful about Hyungwon, anything at all, it would be Jooheon - his best friend and roommate was Hyungwon’s lover, it couldn’t get any better than that. Of course, talking to Jooheon after the way they parted the previous night would be— awkward. Minhyuk felt like he’d made a terrible mistake, even though he wasn’t quite sure what it was that he did. Besides being incredibly rude and mean to Jooheon for no reason, that is; other than that, he had no idea what he did wrong.

He hurried through the circus grounds, weaving his way through the staff and kiosks that had already begun to set up for the evening. It was Sunday, meaning Jooheon left a little earlier than on weekdays and Minhyuk was running late after his failed attempt at gathering information. Jooheon might have left already, for all he knew.

For the first time that day, he got lucky - he spotted Jooheon at one of the already open food kiosks, buying himself something to eat, presumably, for dinner. Minhyuk made a beeline towards him, reaching him just as he was receiving his food after paying the vendor.

The dimpled smile Jooheon had on while speaking to the vendor dropped instantly from his face once he turned around and saw Minhyuk. Minhyuk would be lying if he said that didn’t hurt a little bit. Or a lot. A lot worked, too.

Minhyuk didn’t let himself be discouraged and smiled brightly at him. “Honey! Hi!”

“Hi,” Jooheon replied, cagey and suspicious, the paper bag containing his food held against his chest as if he was defending it. Or as if it was defending him, but Minhyuk wasn’t sure how a bag of fried fish would be able to defend anyone.

“Uh… so…” Minhyuk started, forgetting what he was doing there for a second. “Are you going home?”

Jooheon narrowed his eyes at Minhyuk. “Yes. Why?”

“Nothing!” Minhyuk said, perhaps a little too loudly. “I just— I was hoping I could talk to you for a moment.”

“About what?” he asked, and before Minhyuk had even finished opening his mouth to reply, Jooheon added, “If it’s about Hyungwon again, I would rather not.”

Minhyuk groaned and followed Jooheon when he began walking away - Minhyuk wasn’t sure if he started walking to get away from him or if it was because they were in the way of people who wanted to buy food at that kiosk. Either way, Minhyuk was not about to let Jooheon leave so easily.

“Please, it’s just a couple of questions,” he pleaded, walking rapidly in order to keep up with Jooheon. “Pretty please, honey?”

Jooheon huffed. “You have to stop calling me that.”

“Why? You’re my honey.”

“I am _ not _.”

“Yes, you are,” Minhyuk said firmly. Before Jooheon could argue again, he said, “Now tell me all you know about Hyungwon, please.”

“I don’t want to,” Jooheon replied, sounding like a particularly whiny toddler. “It feels as if talking about him brings bad luck, I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“He’s harmless, honey,” Minhyuk said. “And if he shows up, I’ll protect you.”

Jooheon snorted at that, for some reason. “Right. I don’t even know anything, you’re wasting your time asking me about him.”

“I’m sure you know _ something_,” he said, conviction clear in his voice. Minhyuk was reaching a level of desperation in which anything would be helpful - even something as simple as learning Hyungwon’s favorite color would be useful. At this point, a bread crumb was a feast for him. “Did Changkyun ever mention anything about him?”

“Changkyun won’t shut up about him,” Jooheon said, clearly bitter about it. “‘Hyungwon is so pretty’ this, ‘Hyungwon is so smart’ that, it’s constant.”

Minhyuk sighed. That was not what he was after. “Anything less about his qualities and more about him? Something he’s done, maybe something he said?”

Jooheon slowed down his pace, something for which Minhyuk was quite grateful, and a hitch appeared between his brows as he tried to think of something to say. “He knew where we lived without either of us telling him.”

Minhyuk arched an eyebrow, not very impressed. “That’s easy to find out, though. He would just need to talk to the right people.”

“But how would he have done it so fast?”

“He probably has about a hundred people working for him, honey. He could have sent someone else to do it in his stead.”

Jooheon pouted at him. Minhyuk felt a strange need to kiss that pout away, but he very quickly and very sternly told his mind to knock it off. “I know he does, but this was different. He just showed up at our doorstep when Changkyun was sick, and he _ knew _ Changkyun was sick. I was the only one who knew, how did he know Changkyun was sick!? I definitely didn’t tell him.”

“Maybe he had a hunch or—”

“No one who has a ‘hunch’ shows up unannounced somewhere they’ve never been to before in the middle of the night, bringing their witch-made remedies for fever with them.”

“Witches aren’t real, my honey,” Minhyuk gently told him. “Although— you do have a point.”

“He’s put a spell on Changkyun, I just know it,” Jooheon said, and he really meant it. “Changkyun’s obsessed with him.”

“Isn’t Hyungwon just as obsessed with Changkyun, though?” Minhyuk offered, as Jooheon didn’t seem to have considered that yet. “The way they look at each other is quite similar. I think they’re just in love.”

“No,” Jooheon said, shaking his head to emphasize the word. “They might be in love, but it goes deeper than that. It’s— I don’t even know how to describe it. Changkyun has changed since they met, he used to be the most down to earth, rational person I knew, and now—” Jooheon interrupted himself to exhale slowly. “I’m telling you, something is off about the whole thing.”

Minhyuk frowned at the ground, going over Jooheon’s account of Changkyun’s relationship with Hyungwon in his mind. Love was a solid explanation for it - love made people go insane, which was one of the many reasons why Minhyuk avoided it like the plague. Maybe Jooheon had never been in love before and didn’t know how it could skew your perception of the world.

Minhyuk knew - he had an ugly scar on his head as a reminder.

That Changkyun and Hyungwon were obsessed with each other was not something uncommon enough that Minhyuk would jump to the conclusion something supernatural was happening; it was fairly common behavior for lovers who have just started their affair to have their entire lives revolve around one another. Given time, Changkyun and Hyungwon would come down from their seventh heaven and start acting like normal people once again.

Although… Minhyuk had felt it the night before, and while he struggled with the mere idea of it, there was a small voice in the back of his mind that told him there was something strange about Hyungwon. 

All the years of experience Minhyuk had reading people, and nothing was ever quite as frustrating as trying to read Hyungwon. All he got from him was surface stuff and, if he tried to read him more closely, it felt as if his brain was filled with fog. His thoughts just went blank, he became tongue-tied, nervous. He’d accused Hyungwon of not being human out of spite, something he would admit easily to be a petty way of hurting him, but— maybe it wasn’t exactly a lie. 

Hyungwon had dropped fifteen cards at once, after all.

“So you think he’s a witch?” Minhyuk finally asked.

“I don’t think it matters what I think, I’m probably wrong,” Jooheon said. He took out a piece of fried fish from the bag in his hand and shoved it unceremoniously in his mouth, as if he didn’t want to wait another second to eat. Maybe Jooheon was the type of person who ate his stress away. Once he’d chewed and swallowed, he said, “All I know is what I see, and what I see is weird.”

“I don’t think it would be much of a scandal if people learned he dabbles in dark magic,” Minhyuk said with a defeated sigh to punctuate his words. “They’d probably find him that more intriguing. I’ll have to keep investigating.”

“You should let it go, Minhyuk,” Jooheon said. “Not only because of the consequences, but because— it’s simply not worth it.”

“I think it’s worth it,” Minhyuk argued. “Seeing the look on his face when I drag his name through the dirt and ruin his credit as a medium will be very rewarding.”

Jooheon simply sighed at that, clearly admitting defeat. “Alright, if you say so.”

They reached the exit and Jooheon stopped walking by the gates. Minhyuk stopped as well, trying to come up with ways to spend a little more time with him - he was ecstatic that Jooheon had spoken to him about Hyungwon despite what happened the previous night at all. He was certain he would brush him off and tell him to go away, but he didn’t.

It made Minhyuk happy. Very happy.

“Want me to walk you home?” he offered. “The streets are awfully dangerous these days.”

Jooheon chuckled and shook his head. “No, that’s alright.”

“Are you sure?” Minhyuk asked, perhaps a little too eager.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t you have to set up your stall?”

“I will, there’s more than enough time,” Minhyuk said and made a dismissing gesture with his hand to articulate just how not urgent setting up his stall was.

Not that he was looking forward to it after what happened last night, but alas - he still had to make money.

“Won’t you stay for the performance?” Minhyuk asked, hopeful.

Jooheon shook his head. “No, I’ve seen the rehearsal enough times to know the whole thing by heart. I’d rather go home and rest.”

“Oh, alright,” he replied. He looked around, hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers, going over several topics he could bring up to keep Jooheon around for a few minutes more. For some reason, he settled on saying, “The season here will be over in a few weeks.”

“Yeah,” Jooheon said, looking back at the main tent. “I didn’t think I would say this, but I’ll miss working here.”

“You’re not sticking around? Touring with the circus is quite fun,” Minhyuk said. “New places, new people.”

“No, I’m fine here,” Jooheon said in response. Minhyuk felt his spirits deflate some. “I always knew this job would be temporary.” Jooheon turned to him, then. “You’re going away with the circus?”

“That’s the plan,” Minhyuk replied with a shrug and a tight smile. He wanted to add something akin to _ ‘plans can change’ _ but he decided not to - he didn’t want to send the wrong message or make Jooheon uncomfortable.

“Mhm, I figured,” Jooheon said. It sounded clipped, as if he had more to say but had chosen not to. Minhyuk hoped he’d said what he wanted. “Well, I might as well get going.”

“Alright, uh— have a good night, my honey,” Minhyuk said sweetly. Jooheon looked away from him.

“Yeah, you too. Good luck with the— your stall.”

“Thank you, I think I’ll need it,” Minhyuk said, his voice taking on a forlorn cadence.

“You’ll be fine,” Jooheon said, and smiled softly, dimples barely showing but there nonetheless. “Bye, Minhyuk.”

“Bye, honey,” Minhyuk replied quietly, and with a last close-lipped smile Jooheon turned around and walked away, leaving Minhyuk behind with that tight cluster of thoughts rolling around in his mind - the mystery that was Hyungwon, his own reluctance to do his job that evening, and the very conflicting emotions he felt towards Jooheon.

◦ ◦ ◦

“And this is the last one,” Hyunwoo announced, leaving the last box with their belongings on the floor of the new apartment.

Kihyun raised his head from his task of clearing up some space in the living room so they could at least move around; there were boxes, bags, trunks, random piles of clothes scattered about, the floor barely visible.

Hyunwoo looked exhausted, as he should be - they had been running up and down all day, trying to move into the new place as fast as possible, and now, a little after midnight, it seemed they were finally done.

“Come sit down,” Kihyun said, moving towards the recliner to remove the boxes that were there and allow Hyunwoo a place to rest. Hyunwoo didn’t need to be told twice.

He plopped down on the chaise with a grunt and a loud sigh of relief; Kihyun could only imagine how tired he was, being the one who made the most trips back and forth between the old apartment and the new, the one who carried the most weight.

“Want some water?” Kihyun offered after placing the box he’d moved from the recliner on the floor.

“Do we have anything stronger?” Hyunwoo asked with a tired grin, and Kihyun huffed a laugh through his nose.

“I think I saw some beer, I’ll check.”

Kihyun deftly maneuvered his way across the room, through the obstacles they created for themselves, towards the kitchen to find something for Hyunwoo to drink. It wouldn’t be cold, though - they hadn’t had the time to set up their icebox yet.

The kitchen was, at least, less messy than the rest of the apartment, likely because they didn’t own that many kitchen utensils and there were relatively fewer boxes to take up space. Although, sure, the bedroom was somewhat tidy too since they tasked Hoseok with making the bedroom habitable during the day, while Kihyun and Hyunwoo went back and forth to their old place to move their belongings - an obvious excuse so Hoseok wouldn’t have to be out in the cold for long but, luckily, Hoseok was in a good enough mood that day to not argue that request.

As he searched the contents of the boxes sitting on the table, Kihyun’s mind brought him back around to the ominous words Hyungwon relayed to him the night before. Being busy all day served as a distraction, but now that there was nothing to keep his focus, there seemed to be nothing else in his thoughts other than that feeling of imminent calamity.

Hyunwoo was definitely hiding something, that was a confirmed fact. Going over the clues he’d gathered so far, it didn’t seem like that secret was related to an affair, much like Hyunwoo had told him - one thing he could cross off the list of possibilities. Hoseok mentioned Hyunwoo could have been injured somewhere, and Kihyun had found the bloody handkerchief in his pocket that morning. Those could be one and the same - Hyunwoo hurt his shoulder somewhere, maybe scrapped it while working at the docks or the market, and used the handkerchief to clean up the blood from that wound. It made sense.

He tried to think back to the night before, when he’d been with Hyunwoo very up close and _ very _ personal. Was there something different about his body? It’d been far too dark to see properly, but he couldn’t recall spotting any cuts or scrapes. He thought he’d seen a couple of bruises, but those could have easily been a trick of the light.

One thing he _ did _ notice, mostly because he could tell just through touching Hyunwoo, was that he had, in fact, lost some weight. Again, there were plenty of explanations for that - he was working too hard, stressing too much, not eating enough. It didn’t _ have _ to mean he was sick. It could be something else. It had to be something else.

Kihyun found a small cluster of beer bottles inside one of the boxes, patting his past-self on the back for the preemptive thought of putting a bottle opener inside the same box. There were other containers there, mostly of spices; it gave him a pang of nostalgia for the days when he had time to actually cook for them. He missed cooking. Maybe once things settled a bit he could cook them a big, fancy dinner - just because they were constantly stressed and miserable didn’t mean they couldn’t take some time to have a romantic banquet.

Once they gathered enough money to move somewhere outside of the city and afford a decent treatment for Hoseok’s illness, and after he found out what was going on with Hyunwoo, then he would cook them a veritable feast. A long term plan, but it was good to have a goal.

Bottle properly opened, he returned to the living room while still debating how to go about figuring out Hyunwoo’s secret. He could ask. Asking him had a very small chance of being useful, but it was more honest than poking around and playing detective behind his back, and honesty is always the best option.

However— that would only serve to make Hyunwoo aware of his attempts at figuring out what he was hiding. Hyunwoo was, for the most part, a very straightforward, truthful person, but when he wanted to keep a secret, especially when that secret could hurt someone he cared about, he might as well be a rock. It was what made Hyunwoo so trustworthy, one of the many reasons why Kihyun loved him, even if at that moment it was driving Kihyun mad.

The only option was to fight fire with fire and hope they didn’t burn down to ash.

He reached Hyunwoo after wading through the sea of boxes on their floor and smiled once their eyes met, hoping his expression didn’t betray where his thoughts had been just seconds before.

“Here you go,” Kihyun said as he handed the bottle to Hyunwoo, who accepted it with one of his bright boyish grins.

“Thank you, love,” he said before taking a few hearty gulps of beer. He smacked his lips once he was done, in that way that always reminded Kihyun of a grandpa and never failed to make him laugh.

“We have a couple more of those in the kitchen,” Kihyun said, raising a hand to stroke Hyunwoo’s hair lovingly.

“Just this one is fine for now,” he replied, then laced an arm around Kihyun’s waist to pull him closer so he could lean his head on his sternum. “Is Hoseok asleep?”

Kihyun smiled down at the top of Hyunwoo’s hair, now running both his hands through it, massaging his scalp with his fingertips to try and help him relax after that terribly long day. “He is. He was out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.”

Hyunwoo hummed and wrapped both arms around Kihyun, face hidden against his torso. “Good. I wish we’ve had more leisure to move, doing so in a single day can’t have been good for his health.”

“Hoseok is fine, dearest,” Kihyun said, bending down to plant a kiss to the top of his head. “I’m more concerned about you right now.”

“Me? I’m fine,” Hyunwoo said as if it were obvious - which it wasn’t - and looked up at Kihyun. “I’ll be brand new after a good night’s sleep.”

“Are you sure?” Kihyun asked back, challenging, as he cradled Hyunwoo’s cheeks in his hands. “You’ve been working way too hard.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” he promised, turning his head to place a kiss to Kihyun’s wrist, just above his pulse point. 

“You’re _ exhausted,_ Woo. You’re going to collapse if you keep up like this.”

“I know my limits.”

“You truly don’t,” Kihyun threw back right away. “You bend yourself backwards for me and Hoseok, you have to let us take care of you sometimes.”

Hyunwoo closed his eyes and returned to his previous position, forehead resting against Kihyun’s chest, face hidden against his torso. “I love you so much. You and Hoseok are my world.”

“We love you too, dearest,” Kihyun said, arms wrapped around Hyunwoo’s neck. “That’s exactly why we want you to rest a little. Our finances won’t fall apart if you take one day for yourself.”

“And what am I supposed to do at home all day?” he asked, voice taking a teasing tone. “The same we did last night?”

“If Hoseok is up for it, sure,” Kihyun replied, laughing. “I was thinking of something closer to ‘spend the entire day asleep’.”

Hyunwoo rolled his eyes as leaned back again to look up at him. “I’m not going to spend the entire day asleep, we have too much to do, Ki.”

“Fine, then spend half the day asleep and during the other half you can— I don’t know, do the books,” Kihyun suggested. “You’re good at math and I would love some assistance with that part.”

“Hoseok doesn’t help you?”

Kihyun inhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts before replying. “Hoseok is— not very organized.”

Hyunwoo snorted. “He’s more organized than I am.”

“Not with math. Or documents in general.”

“Fair enough,” Hyunwoo granted. “I’m still not sure this is a good idea.”

“At least think about it,” Kihyun said, moving his hands to Hyunwoo’s shoulders, massaging the muscles there carefully. Hoseok mentioned Hyunwoo’s shoulder might be injured, maybe he could find out like that. “Mayhap we can all take the day off, take the ship out to sea for a few hours.”

Hyunwoo hummed, considering the idea. “That sounds nice.” He sighed, then, and took another sip of beer. Kihyun continued massaging his shoulders, putting a little more pressure when Hyunwoo didn’t show any signs of pain. “Hoseok would be happy.”

“This isn’t about Hoseok, this is about you,” Kihyun gently said. “Hoseok is sick, yes, I understand putting all your efforts into making him happy, but you can’t forget yourself. You’re going to burn out like this.”

“I know that,” Hyunwoo said, shifting in his seat. Was he in pain or just uncomfortable with the conversation? Kihyun couldn’t tell. “All I want is to give you two a better life, not only because Hoseok is sick.”

“A better life includes you being around more. We hardly ever see you.”

“You see me every day.”

“Yes, for five minutes at a time before you run off again!” Kihyun snapped, then took a deep breath to calm himself. “Look, I know you’re free to choose how much you work, I have no control over you in the end, but we’re worried. If you don’t rest for yourself, then do it for Hoseok. And for me.”

Hyunwoo was quiet for a moment, likely rolling over Kihyun’s plea in his head. Kihyun waited, ever-patient, and continued to massage his shoulders, the muscles there tense. Hyunwoo still didn’t react to the touches; perhaps his injury wasn’t in his muscles, but in his joints. If he moved the massage closer to where his shoulder met his arm—

Before he could, Hyunwoo said, “Alright, I’ll think about it.”

Kihyun gave him a pleased smile. “Thank you. I feel much better knowing you’ll at least consider it.”

Hyunwoo grunted something Kihyun couldn’t understand and finished off his beer in a single gulp, giving Kihyun no chance to continue his exploration before he got up from the chaise.

“I think I’ll take a bath now,” he declared.

Kihyun saw an opportunity there. “Want some company?”

“No, it’s alright, I’ll be quick,” Hyunwoo replied. Maybe a little too fast.

“Are you sure? I can wash your hair, give you a massage, perhaps even—”

“It’s alright, Ki,” he repeated. “I’ll take only a few minutes, I just want to get to bed and sleep.”

Kihyun stammered and nodded stiffly to agree. “A-alright. I’ll make our bed, then.”

“Thank you, dear,” Hyunwoo said just before pressing a long kiss to Kihyun’s forehead. He exhaled slowly and whispered against his skin, “I love you so much.”

Kihyun closed his eyes, a smile creeping onto his face despite his concerns. “I love you too.”

“I’ll be right back,” Hyunwoo said and, kissing Kihyun on the corner of the mouth one last time, he walked away towards the bathroom, the sound of the door shutting reaching Kihyun’s ears after only a couple of seconds.

Kihyun took a long, deep breath, a mixture of emotions warring in his heart. Looking around at the living room, he couldn’t help but feel like he was looking at his own future - boxes of their memories and belongings stacked around haphazardly, everything in disarray, the room quiet and dark, and him standing there. Alone.

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ghostlike91) | [tumblr](https://ghostlike91.tumblr.com/) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ghostlike)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for some crude language because everyone decided to become a potty mouth this chapter. also gratuitous assholish dialogue. and salt. a lot of salt.
> 
> enjoy!♡

◦

Jooheon wasn’t in the best mood. Truth be told, he hadn’t been in a great mood for a while - he blamed it all on Changkyun and Minhyuk. And the monkeys. Those devil monkeys throwing their poop at him absolutely didn’t help.

Changkyun and Minhyuk, though— they were a different kind of stress.

On one side, he had Changkyun yapping about Hyungwon all the time - that is, whenever Changkyun decided to come home, usually very late at night. He would disappear the entire day, early enough that Jooheon would wake up to an empty apartment so often it was becoming routine. And why? Because he was chasing Hyungwon around the city like a devoted puppy. He would visit Hyungwon in that creepy mansion of his in the morning, stick around for as long as he could, and at night he would simply follow Hyungwon to wherever he was performing his séances. There was absolutely no way Changkyun wasn’t under a spell, nobody rational behaved like that and Jooheon had never heard of anyone going insane overnight.

And on the other side, there was Minhyuk. Also yapping about Hyungwon all the time. Questioning him about Changkyun’s relationship with Hyungwon every day. Trying to convince Jooheon to pry into Changkyun’s private business for him. He even asked him to make a copy of the key of their apartment so he could sneak in and go through Changkyun’s belongings because he was  _ certain _ he had letters from Hyungwon in which all his secrets were laid bare.

Why on earth would Hyungwon send Changkyun letters if they saw each other every single day?

He was sick and tired of that Hyungwon guy already. He was sick and tired of him even before things escalated the way they did, but  _ now _ — now it was unbearable.

He was losing his best friend to a damn witch and he was going to lose his— whatever Minhyuk was to him as well, because the circus would be gone in a few weeks and Minhyuk would be gone with it.

Maybe he should start getting used to his empty apartment.

He was done tending to the animals that afternoon and was now moving the order of hay that had arrived earlier somewhere out of the way, stacking the bundles against the side of a shed all by himself. His back hurt, his muscles ached, and his palms were burning from the friction of lifting up the haystacks by the ropes that tied them together. All of that combined only served to worsen his already deplorable mood. He wished nothing else would happen that day to make him more miserable.

Wishing never got him anywhere, though, and that was proven only seconds after the thought crossed his mind.

“Honey!”

Jooheon turned around when he heard Minhyuk’s familiar voice behind him and immediately felt as if he had been transported to a different dimension.

Wishing really was meant for gullible children and fools.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

Minhyuk grinned brightly at him and did a slow turn to show off his outfit - he was dressed like a rich person. Fancy coat, fancy trousers, embroidered waistcoat, silver cufflinks, silk cravat. He even had a hat, although he was holding it instead of wearing it.

“What do you think?” Minhyuk asked. “I borrowed these clothes from a friend, do I look good?”

“That— doesn’t answer my question,” Jooheon said, staring at Minhyuk as if he’d turned green. Did the last marble Minhyuk had inside his skull finally fall off? “Why are you dressed like you count money for a living?”

“It’s a disguise!”

Jooheon blinked. “I can still see that it’s you.”

“No, not that sort of disguise,” Minhyuk said, laughing, and came closer to Jooheon so they wouldn’t have to talk so loud. “I’m going on a secret mission tonight.”

Jooheon had to take a moment to breathe in slowly, give himself the extra seconds necessary to decide if he even wanted to know what Minhyuk was talking about. He figured it was best if he knew, just in case things went sour and he had to pull Minhyuk out of the fire - if Minhyuk got himself arrested, though, there was nothing Jooheon could do. He would visit, at least.

“What secret mission?”

“I’m infiltrating a séance tonight,” Minhyuk whispered to him conspiratorially, and Jooheon had to close his eyes for a second. He shouldn’t have asked.

“So this is still about Hyungwon?” Jooheon asked. Minhyuk opened his mouth, likely to defend himself and his obsession, but Jooheon cut him off. “It’s been almost two weeks! You haven’t found any dirt on him so far, just let it go!”

He should have known - Hyungwon,  _ again _ . He was tired of everyone in his life being obsessed with Hyungwon; first his best friend, who was at that point a lost cause, and now Minhyuk. What was so great about Hyungwon anyway? Sure, he had an attractive face and a ton of money, maybe that was his appeal; he could keep his looks and his money and stay the hell away from his friends, though. Jooheon saw them first, they were  _ his _ friends, not Hyungwon’s.

If only he could express that frustration outwardly without sounding like a needy, spoiled brat.

“I’m so close, honey! I can taste sweet victory already,” Minhyuk said, and the look on his face was more than a little manic. Jooheon was starting to worry. “I didn’t find anything yet because I haven’t attended any of his séances! If I do, I’ll absolutely find something to prove he’s a fraud.”

“Or you’ll get yourself in trouble, which is the most likely outcome,” Jooheon pointed out.

“I won’t! I can be a good spy.”

“Spies are usually subtle, though.”

Minhyuk pouted at him. “I’m subtle! I can be subtle!”

Jooheon shrugged and that was the only answer he gave Minhyuk. Minhyuk made a short whining sound and tugged on Jooheon’s sleeve a couple of times, trying to get his attention; Jooheon pretended not to notice it.

“Honey! I can be subtle, say you agree!” Minhyuk pleaded. Seeing that he wouldn’t reply, Minhyuk huffed and said, “And you never answered if I look good or not.”

“You look rich, what does it matter if you look good or not?” Jooheon threw back, avoiding eye contact with Minhyuk as if he would catch his death if their gazes met. Better to keep stacking bales of hay than to look at Minhyuk directly from that up close. Safer, too.

“It matters,” Minhyuk said, and even without looking at him Jooheon could tell his pout had gotten bigger. “I want to know what you think.”

Jooheon sighed and stopped what he was doing, dropping the bundle of hay back on the floor. “What do you care what I think? Makes no difference.”

“Makes all the difference!” Minhyuk argued. “If you think I look good I might dress like this more often.”

Jooheon grimaced. “Please, don’t. It’s very strange seeing you dressed like you wipe your ass with bank notes.”

He could physically see Minhyuk’s spirits deflate right in front of him. “You don’t like it.”

Jooheon looked away again, set on finishing stacking up the hay. “That’s not what I said.”

“So you do like it?”

“I said it’s strange,” Jooheon said. “You look fine.”

“Fine as in good?”

“Why are you so set on me thinking you look good or not?” Jooheon whispered, annoyed, more to himself than Minhyuk. Minhyuk heard it and assumed he was talking to him, though.

“Because I want to look pretty for my honey, of course.”

“I’m not your honey,” Jooheon murmured, cheeks aflame. “You have a nice face and good body proportions, you look good in anything.”

“Aw, honey, you think I have a nice face?” Minhyuk said, and Jooheon was now certain he suffered from a severe case of selective hearing.

“I’m quite certain that several people think the same way, I don’t know why you’re so intent on getting my opinion,” Jooheon said as he picked up another bale of hay to place it atop the growing stack, the movement so abrupt it made a wave of heat rush through him. As he rolled up his sleeves in hopes of cooling off, he thought he saw Minhyuk staring at his now exposed forearms - he was looking away when he looked up at him, though. Must have been his imagination.

“Because your opinion is the most important opinion there is,” Minhyuk stated. “And, like I just said, I want to look pretty for my honey.”

“I’m not your honey.”

“Yes, you are, stop saying that,” Minhyuk said, sounding very firm although not quite angry. Frustrated, perhaps. After taking a deep breath, he said with a bit more composure, “You don’t like this outfit on me, but you still think I look good. Is that it?”

Jooheon rolled his eyes. “Yes, that’s it.”

Minhyuk made an odd squeaky-type sound and beamed at him. “You think I’m pretty!”

“How is that the conclusion you reached from what I said!?”

“Am I wrong?”

Jooheon huffed and didn’t reply. That entire conversation felt like a waste of time - Jooheon might have harbored a few more-than-friendly feelings towards Minhyuk, and maybe those feelings could bloom into something more but— what was the point? Minhyuk said he didn’t ‘do’ love and, even if he did, he would be gone in a few weeks when the circus moved on to the next town. There was no reason for Minhyuk’s insistence on knowing if Jooheon found him good looking or not, no reason for Jooheon to go through that knowing it would be for nothing, in the end. Minhyuk wouldn’t be in his life for long. That was that.

Jooheon might be a sensitive, sentimental guy, but he was never a masochist. He took matters of the heart seriously, and Minhyuk— he didn’t. Why put himself through something that would be painful knowing that the outcome would only leave him miserable?

Besides, Minhyuk was likely just toying with him. He must find it very funny how naive and easily flustered he was; that was the only reason why Minhyuk would behave the way he did around him, say the things he said.

As if someone like Minhyuk would ever  _ actually _ be interested in someone like him.

“Don’t you have a séance to get to?” Jooheon asked, hoping he didn’t sound as bitter as he felt.

“I do, but I needed to make sure I look alright first,” Minhyuk said. His cheeks were pink, for some reason. Cold? Jooheon couldn’t tell, lifting haystacks made him feel quite hot and his capacity to discern temperature was a bit thrown-off. It was probably just the cold.

“You’ll have to clean up your shoes first,” Jooheon said, nodding at Minhyuk’s feet. “You got mud all over your boots.”

“Ah, this is fine, I was planning to change my shoes when I get to the address,” Minhyuk said with a lopsided grin. “Thank you for reminding me, honey.”

“Just go,” Jooheon murmured, turning away from Minhyuk to focus on stacking the last few bundles of hay. 

“Fine,” Minhyuk replied, sounding— hissy. For some ungodly reason. “I’ll see you later, my honey.”

“See ya,” Jooheon said without looking back and, after a couple of seconds, heard Minhyuk’s footsteps moving away.

He took a deep breath once he placed another bale of hay on the tall stack, figuring he should start another as he would obviously not be able to reach that one anymore. He was set on doing so, was  _ going  _ to do so, but he looked back instead, to where Minhyuk had been. He was expecting to find him gone. 

Instead, Minhyuk was only a few feet away from him, smiling and chatting with a woman Jooheon recognized as the trapeze artist who performed at the circus. She was pretty - beautiful, even. Minhyuk was showing off his outfit to her and doing a curtsy, and she was giggling and it looked— natural. That was more in line with what Minhyuk should go for, in terms of partners - someone who was obviously interested in him, someone who encouraged his friendly and playful personality, someone who would leave with him when the circus moved on. Not— not him. Not Jooheon, who was avoidant and constantly rejected his advances. Jooheon, who would stay behind for not being adventurous enough like Minhyuk to follow a traveling circus and for being too scared to take that chance.

He knew all of that. He knew it from day one that it would come to this, that getting attached to anyone in there was foolish. There was just something about Minhyuk, though. Something that stirred in Jooheon that desire for  _ more _ . Jooheon had always wanted to find someone to settle down with, share a life with, and with his preferences in partners, that was a difficult thing to accomplish. It felt unfair that now that he found someone he liked, someone he could see himself falling for, that someone didn’t - wouldn’t, couldn’t - feel the same.

Jooheon never really forgot about all those facts, but reminders such as Minhyuk flirting with someone else a short distance away from him still stung.

He forced himself to look away when Minhyuk took the woman’s hand and kissed it. Better to focus on the job he was paid to perform than to pine over someone and lament all the possibilities he would never get to explore.

He entirely missed the moment Minhyuk looked over towards him, as well as the guilt and longing so clear in his eyes.

◦ ◦ ◦

Changkyun watched through the window as Hyungwon conducted his séance inside, barely able to see anything at all - it was pitch black, only the feeble light of a candle to illuminate the room, and all Changkyun could see was Hyungwon’s pale hair. Not even a good portion of it, too; the curtains were closed, luckily not all the way, and he was grateful for that thin crack left open.

He’d taken to ‘attending’ Hyungwon’s séances lately; it wasn’t every day he had the permission to visit him at the mansion, and most days his visits had to be quite short, thus, trying to sneak in a quick encounter at night, after his séance appointments were done, was the solution Changkyun had found to spend a little more time around his lover. Hyungwon didn’t mind - in fact, he encouraged him to do so, going as far as making a copy of his scheduled sessions for Changkyun not to miss anything. While Changkyun was ecstatic to be able to be around Hyungwon more, the truth was— it was very boring. Standing around in the dark, hidden in strangers’ backyards, waiting for Hyungwon to be done, was incredibly dull.

Perhaps he should start bringing books with him. That would keep him distracted.

He had been there for a while now, though. Hyungwon’s séances usually lasted around one hour, and Changkyun was quite sure it was almost over. If only he could see inside to be sure - as he could not, he decided to round the house and get to the backyard, by the servants' entrance, where it was dark and private enough that they wouldn’t have to worry too much.

Before he left, though, he couldn’t resist a little mischief; with enough force to shake the windows but not enough to break them, Changkyun banged his palms on the glass. The sound caused several of the people inside the room to gasp - he was certain he heard a scream, too - and, biting his lips to contain his laughter, Changkyun hurried away towards the service entrance to wait for Hyungwon.

It never failed to amuse him how easy it was to frighten the people who hired Hyungwon’s services. Even Hyungwon himself agreed that his patrons were often very gullible, eager to believe any little sound was of paranormal origin. Changkyun couldn’t understand how badly people wanted to communicate with spirits and prove their existence - in his very humble opinion, one should never mess with forces they don’t understand. A recipe for disaster, that was. Changkyun at least had Hyungwon to shield him from any supernatural misadventures, although he truly hoped not to be faced with such a situation anytime soon.

Who would shield Hyungwon from them, though? Could Changkyun even do anything to protect him? He couldn’t make his headaches better, couldn’t reassure him he wouldn’t lose himself to a spirit, and those were two paranormal things that plagued Hyungwon constantly - Changkyun was useless to fight any of them. He couldn’t even protect Hyungwon from Guhn, and Guhn was a man made of flesh and bone just like Changkyun himself was.

Useless. He was useless.

He waited there in the dark, in the narrow space at the bottom of the stairs that led to the servants' entrance, for about fifteen or so minutes before Hyungwon finally made his appearance, rushing out and closing that door so fast one could believe he was being chased by someone. Changkyun beamed at him, much like Hyungwon did when their eyes met, and in a matter of seconds they were already in each other’s arms, Hyungwon with his back against the wall and Changkyun pinning him there, kissing as if the world was about to end.

“Hi,” Changkyun whispered against Hyungwon’s lips when they parted to catch their breaths.

Hyungwon smiled at him. “Hi.” He kissed him once more before finally pulling back, which prompted Changkyun to control himself and do the same. “Did I make you wait long?”

“Not too long,” Changkyun replied. He raised a hand to gently run his fingers through Hyungwon’s hair, brushing it away from his face. “Headache?”

“Not as bad as last night,” Hyungwon replied. “Just an annoying pain right above my eyes. I’ll be fine once I get a chance to sleep for a few hours.”

“I wish you’d come home with me,” Changkyun said - he did so every night. Hyungwon would have to crack eventually. Soft water, hard stone. “My bed is big enough for the two of us, if we hold each other through the night.”

Hyungwon rolled his eyes as he laughed. “Yes, I’ve seen your bed before, if you don’t recall.”

“So you know it’s true.”

“Your friend would be uncomfortable, though. And Guhn would eventually come looking for me.”

“Stop reminding me,” Changkyun grumbled and pulled Hyungwon closer to kiss him once, then twice. “I missed you.”

“You saw me just last night,” Hyungwon pointed out, laughing.

“Too long,” Changkyun insisted, squeezing Hyungwon in his arms like a child squeezes a teddy bear, face buried in the crook of his neck. It helped that Hyungwon was taller than him exactly enough for that position to be comfortable. “I miss you all the time.”

“I miss you all the time too,” Hyungwon murmured next to his ear, his own arms wrapped around Changkyun. It felt so incredibly cozy.

Changkyun hummed, content and comfortable as he nuzzled the side of Hyungwon’s neck - that is, until he was met with the familiar black satin ribbon that held that human bone pendant. He made a face and pulled back from the hug to glare at the scorpion cameo, something which Hyungwon noticed right away; he used to laugh whenever it happened, now he would only sigh.

“Do you ever take this thing off?” Changkyun asked, whiny.

“Yes, to sleep and to bathe,” Hyungwon replied. Seeing that Changkyun didn’t seem satisfied with the answer, he added, “It’s just a necklace.”

“Is it really?” Changkyun said and looked up from the pendant to Hyungwon’s eyes, eyebrows raised in challenge. “Why are you always wearing it, then?”

“I told you, didn’t I? Unspeakable sentimental value.”

Changkyun made a face and went right back to glaring at the pendant. “What kind of bone even is this?”

“Here,” Hyungwon said and raised his hand to touch the back of Changkyun’s head, right at the base of his skull. “The occipital bone. It’s the thickest part of the human skull, so it was the most appropriate to carve into a pendant.”

Changkyun shuddered at the thought. “Why the skull? Why not— I don’t know, a finger bone?”

“It’s all from the same skeleton. Does it matter?”

“The skull is a little… intense,” Changkyun said. “Besides, how did you even get it? Did you have to dig the body up or—?”

Hyungwon giggled at that. “Do I seem like a graverobber to you?”

Changkyun rolled his shoulders in what turned out to be the most awkward, most stiff shrug in history. “You could have asked someone else to do it.”

“The thing is, my little mouse, I could not have dug the body up even if I wanted to,” Hyungwon said, cupping his face with his hands lovingly. “There was never a grave.”

Changkyun frowned, confused. “There wasn’t? Then how—”

“How did the skull come into my possession?” Hyungwon finished his sentence for him, a mischievous look on his face. “Are you sure you want to know? You often shy away from morbid topics.”

“I guess you’re right,” Changkyun said with a sigh and a pout. “Maybe it’s better if I don’t know.”

“Mhm, I think it’s best too.”

“You’ll tell me someday? Like everything else?”

“Like everything else,” Hyungwon guaranteed.

“Alright. Alright, I can accept that,” Changkyun said, now decided to ignore the presence of that damn necklace. He chose to change the subject instead of continuing to pry, and placed his hands on Hyungwon’s shoulders, smoothing down the soft fabric of his coat. It was a deep crimson this time. “Have I ever told you that you look stunning in red?”

“You say that about every color I wear,” Hyungwon said. “You said I look stunning in black, and blue, and gray, and green, and white—” 

“That’s because you’re stunning,” Changkyun cut him off, punctuating his words with a kiss. He then smirked up at Hyungwon. “You know what you look exceptionally stunning in, though? Lace.”

Hyungwon chortled, one of his hands coming up to hide his wide smile - Changkyun didn’t know why he always did that, since his smile, too, was stunning. “Good thing I often wear that.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in response, allowing his hands to slide down from Hyungwon’s shoulders over his chest and around his waist. He wanted to rip that coat open, then the waistcoat, and the white cotton shirt he was wearing just to get at the lace undershirt hidden under all those layers. “When will I see you wearing only lace?”

“My, someone has a fetish,” Hyungwon teased, to which Changkyun retaliated by pinching his side. Hyungwon squirmed to get away, giggling - he was quite ticklish, Changkyun had learned. “I only own lace shirts and a few accessories, though.”

“That’s alright, you won’t need any clothes for your lower half.”

Hyungwon let out a loud laugh of surprise and gave Changkyun a soft slap on the arm. The tips of his ears were red. “Your head is filled to the brim with filth tonight, isn’t it?”

“Your fault for being so tempting,” Changkyun said and kissed Hyungwon, catching his bottom lip with his teeth briefly before pulling away again. “Especially this,” he said, running a thumb over Hyungwon’s bottom lip where his teeth had just been, “this beauty spot you have here.”

“Oh, you like it?” Hyungwon asked, the teasing tone back in his voice. Changkyun hummed in assent, kissing Hyungwon’s bottom lip specifically for emphasis. “You know, this mark would have gotten me burned at the stake a few centuries ago.”

Changkyun arched an eyebrow. “How so? Too lovely?”

“Stop,” Hyungwon said, laughing, cheeks rosy. “During the witch hunts it was a common practice to use beauty spots and other common marks on your body - moles, bumps, warts, and the like - to prove that someone was a witch,” Hyungwon explained. “I would have been a goner, no doubt.”

“It’s certainly an unusual place for a beauty mark,” Changkyun granted.

“Mhm. They would likely claim I was kissed by the Devil.”

“No, you were kissed by me,” Changkyun said and, after giving Hyungwon a quick peck on the lips to illustrate his point, pulled back with his eyes comically wide and said, “Wait, does that make  _ me _ the Devil?”

Hyungwon laughed at his joke and shook his head. “Definitely not. You might be  _ a _ devil, but not  _ the _ Devil.”

“Well,  _ the  _ Devil better stay away from you, or I will be forced to fight him,” Changkyun said, matter-of-factly.

“You’d fight the Devil for me?” Hyungwon asked, sounding more than a little smitten.

“I’d fight all the hordes of demons in Hell for you.”

Hyungwon broke into a blinding smile, bright sunshine in the evening, and gave Changkyun a kiss that was more a pressing of lips than anything else, clumsy but so very genuine. He liked those little moments the best, when he said or did something Hyungwon didn’t expect that resulted in Hyungwon, always so careful, so poised and guarded, reacting spontaneously and with no reservations. Changkyun was the only one privy to those moments - knowing that made him love them even more.

When they parted, Hyungwon leaned back against the wall again, arms loosely thrown around Changkyun’s neck. “But you know,” he said, “you would be right there burning at the stake with me were we still in the times of the witch hunts.”

“Would I now?” Changkyun asked.

Hyungwon’s reply was to calmly pull down the collar of Changkyun’s shirt, the same way he did to get to his locket, just so he could place the tip of his index finger atop the mole Changkyun had on the base of his neck, just above his collarbone.

Changkyun looked down, although he was unable to see his mole from that angle no matter how much he tried. “Huh, I forgot I had that.”

“Seems like the Devil was more daring when kissing you,” Hyungwon said, a playful grin on his lips.

Changkyun scoffed. “As if I would let anyone other than you kiss me on the neck. Or anywhere else.”

“Good answer,” Hyungwon said, sounding quite proud. He began playing with the silver chain of his locket then, his eyes still on the mole on Changkyun’s neck. “There is another superstition regarding such marks, though.”

“Tell me.”

Hyungwon smiled softly at him, pleased with Changkyun’s curiosity. He still asked Hyungwon many questions every day, all of which Hyungwon responded the best way he could; if a question was something Hyungwon didn’t feel too inclined to talk about, Changkyun would let it go and change the subject. So far, they had been successful in avoiding pointless arguments like the ones they would so easily get into in the beginning. They were learning, settling into their dynamics, figuring out how their very different lives could mesh together, blend into each other.

It felt so easy. It all felt so incredibly easy.

Changkyun was once suspicious about it, but the more time went by, the more he realized that maybe it  _ could _ be that easy - he loved Hyungwon, Hyungwon loved him, and they were willing to compromise, to try to understand one another, and to learn how to be a couple. That’s what relationships are all about - learning and growing. Changkyun thought they were doing quite well for the short time they’ve been together.

“Some people believe,” Hyungwon began, “that marks like the ones we have indicate the way we died in a past life.”

Changkyun arched an eyebrow. “A past life?” He looked at the beauty spot on Hyungwon lower lip thoughtfully for a moment. “Were you stabbed on the lip?”

Hyungwon laughed loudly at that, loud enough that Changkyun thought for a second they would be found sneaking around in that stranger’s backyard and behaving inappropriately. “No, I don’t think being stabbed on the lip was my past life’s cause of death. Or anyone else’s.” 

“How do you explain it, then?”

“I might have been poisoned,” Hyungwon mused, “or I might have ingested something that wasn’t good for me.”

Changkyun frowned. “Poisoned, huh? Is that why you’re so particular about only the ladies in your kitchen handling your tea? Remnants of trauma from your previous life?”

“Perhaps,” Hyungwon admitted, though he sounded as if he was wondering the same Changkyun was. “I am a cautious person in general, though - it’s not only with my tea.”

“It’s good to be cautious, I think,” Changkyun said after a second of consideration. “What about my mole? Did I have my throat slashed?”

“Yes,” Hyungwon replied a little too fast and with a little too much conviction, enough that Changkyun was taken aback.

“You’re very sure about it.”

“You could have been hanged or decapitated as well,” Hyungwon said. “I have reason to believe those aren’t the case.”

“A brutal way to die,” Changkyun murmured, self-consciously putting one hand around his own throat as if defending it from harm. “My poor past self.”

Hyungwon chewed on his lower lip and didn’t respond, watching Changkyun for a long moment as if lost in thought. Changkyun nudged him gently once he went too long without speaking or moving, returning to his previous position of wrapping his arms around Hyungwon’s waist.

“Hey, where did you go?” he softly asked, poking Hyungwon’s cheek with the tip of his nose. “Is something bothering you, angel?”

“Angel?” Hyungwon repeated as he blinked his way out of his brief reverie, chuckling. “First baby, now angel, what will be next? Cherub?”

“Cherub is a good combination of both, you have to agree,” Changkyun said. “You don’t look like a cherub, though. Too skinny.”

“You are an idiot,” Hyungwon stated, punctuating his words with a quick kiss to Changkyun’s cheek. “I should get going,  _ angel _ .”

“Are you going to tease me every time I call you by a nickname?” Changkyun asked, rolling his eyes. “And you should absolutely  _ not _ get going, you’ve been here five minutes.”

“It’s been longer than five minutes,” Hyungwon said. “I have something to see to, though. Your timid friend’s little boyfriend is here, you can blame our time being cut short on him.”

Changkyun arched an eyebrow. “Who? Minhyuk?”

“None other.”

“He’s not Jooheon’s boyfriend.”

“Yet.”

“Oh, is that so?” Changkyun said and cackled. “Do I have permission to tease him about it?”

“Permission granted,” Hyungwon responded, thoroughly amused. “I thought you had seen him during the séance.”

“I was too busy looking at you, baby,” Changkyun stated greasily, to which Hyungwon grimaced.

“How much of a cheeseball can you possibly be? But yes, he was there, hovering in the back of the room and glaring at me.”

“That does sound like Minhyuk,” said Changkyun. “Did Guhn see him?”

“If he did, he didn’t recognize or acknowledge him, as per Guhn fashion.”

“As per prick fashion, you mean,” he quipped and Hyungwon chortled in response.

“Indeed. And now Minhyuk’s searching the room for proof I’m a fraud,” Hyungwon concluded. “I left a couple of things behind for him to find and be entertained, but I should deal with him before he gets himself into trouble.”

“Aren’t you a bleeding heart,” Changkyun said, pinching Hyungwon’s cheek. “You don’t even like Minhyuk and yet you want to keep him out of trouble.”

Hyungwon laughed. “You misunderstand. I want to keep him out of trouble so he won’t drag me down along with him.”

“Sure,” he said sardonically. “I think you like him.”

“I absolutely do not.”

“At least a little.”

“He amuses me,” said Hyungwon firmly. “He’s like— like a three-legged dog. His determination is endearing, sure, but you just can’t help feeling sorry for him.”

“Harsh.”

“And factual,” he concluded. “I thought you’d like to know, by the way, that he jumped when you banged on the window.”

Changkyun cackled yet again. “He did!? I wish I’d seen that, I’ll have to meddle in your séances more often.”

“It was very unexpected, several people there were certain an angry spirit was about to—” Hyungwon stopped himself and looked away, an expression on his face Changkyun had seen before a couple of times, the gears clearly turning inside his head.

“Hyungwon? What’s wrong?”

Hyungwon blinked and met his gaze again, a wide grin spreading slowly on his face. “I just had an idea.”

“What idea?”

“Come over to the mansion in the morning and I’ll tell you all about it,” Hyungwon said and gave Changkyun a long, chaste kiss on the lips. Once they parted and Hyungwon began to detangle himself from Changkyun’s vice-like grip, he added, “Be ready to talk business.”

“Business?” Changkyun echoed at a complete loss. “Hyungwon—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, angel,” Hyungwon said teasingly and, giving Changkyun a noisy kiss on the cheek, hurried away to re-enter the house. “I love you!”

“I love you too!” Changkyun said back, as loud as he dared. “But wait—”

He heard the door open and close, signaling Hyungwon was gone. Changkyun deflated where he stood and pouted at the darkness. It was so like Hyungwon to tease his curiosity and then leave him hanging there, at the edge of a cliff of anticipation.

There was no other choice for him but to turn around and drag his feet back home.

◦ ◦ ◦

Sneaking his way into the séance was much easier than Minhyuk thought it would be - he fully expected to be thrown out seconds after he arrived, but it seemed that, to be accepted by the upper class, all he had to do was act the part. He just had to behave as if he thought he was better than everyone else. Piece of cake.

Finding his way back to the room where the séance had been held was also quite simple - everyone else had gathered in the dining room, a more ample room that could fit all the guests comfortably. The parlor where the session happened was far too small to accommodate that group.

He couldn’t wait to tell Jooheon how much of an amazing spy he was. Jooheon would be so impressed he would swoon, Minhyuk could see it in his mind already.

That might be hard to accomplish, though - Minhyuk had the distinct impression Jooheon was angry with him. Why? Because he hadn’t apologized to him after that night, the one he played the game against Hyungwon? But he hadn’t been angry before - cautious, perhaps, but not angry. Now he was obviously trying to push Minhyuk away, so something else had to be the cause.

The timing couldn't have been worse; all Minhyuk wanted to do was spend more time around Jooheon before he had to leave with the circus. Even thinking about it made his heart hurt - he didn’t want to leave and never see Jooheon again, especially if they were on bad terms with one another. No, if he were to leave, then he wanted them to part as friends, at the very least.

Friendship with Jooheon didn’t feel like enough, though. He hated himself for feeling like that, for wanting Jooheon as— for wanting Jooheon, period. He tried to convince himself it was nothing, that all he felt for Jooheon was silly infatuation that would quickly go away, but every day he found himself wanting him more. He hated himself more and more, too, hated how he was unable to stop feeling like that - the last time it happened he’d walked away with a broken heart and several broken bones.

Jooheon wasn’t like that, and he knew so. Jooheon was loving, timid, and kind - but he’d once thought his previous lover was loving and kind too. He’d believed that until he couldn’t keep lying to himself anymore.

Jooheon was genuine, however. His gentle behavior wasn’t an act. Minhyuk, against his every instinct of not trusting anyone, trusted Jooheon. A part of him wanted to take that leap and express his romantic interest to Jooheon, but the other part of him, the more dominant part, was afraid of what would happen if he did. Afraid of being rejected and ruining his friendship with Jooheon, or worse, afraid that his feelings would be reciprocated and they would get together and be happy for a while only to crash and burn and be miserable again.

Love— love was nice in books and children’s stories. Minhyuk knew better - the reality of love was a trainwreck of blood and tears and heartache.

Not worth it.

And yet he was still struggling with the idea of having to leave Jooheon behind.

Better to focus on the task at hand and stop thinking about Jooheon for two seconds, he decided, and began to search around the room for any signs Hyungwon’s séance was faked. He started looking behind the curtains - that  _ bang _ on the window had scared the eternal soul out of him, and he was still mortified at how he’d yelped and jumped with fright. He would debunk that first.

He patted the rough fabric of the curtains, shook them to see if anything would fall off. Nothing. He opened them, checked the window itself - it could have been the wind. Maybe a nocturnal bird flew into the glass? Also nothing, the glass showed no signs that it had been tampered with or that a bird crashed against it. The family that owned that house had children, but they were tucked away upstairs in their nursery - it couldn’t have been them.

Frustrated, Minhyuk moved on to the table itself, where the séance had taken place. He rounded the table to get to the chair Hyungwon had occupied and crouched down next to it to check the underside. Immediately he spotted a piece of very thin string on the floor, a small pebble tied to the end of it - perfect for swinging around to make knocking noises.

Jooheon would  _ definitely _ swoon when he told him of this discovery.

Minhyuk took the string and pushed it into his breast pocket before patting the underside of the table in search of any other contraption. There was a moment when the flame of the candle expanded, so there was probably a gas valve or something similar there to make it happen. There were droplets of water on the floor, but that could be anything - there was nothing related to water during the séance, not that he knew of.

Although— some people had mentioned feeling something dripping on them. What a cheap trick, throwing water at people and calling it a paranormal phenomenon. Minhyuk filed that finding away in his mind and continued his search of the table.

He took a good look at the legs - all of them steady, sturdy. Nothing to explain how the table had shaken at one point. He put himself under the table a little further so he could reach the very center, the place where the candle had been placed on the top, to look for that gas valve. It had to be there somewhere.

So focused was he on his search that he didn’t notice he was no longer alone in the room.

“Have you found anything?”

Minhyuk yelped and jumped, hitting the top of his head on the table with more force than he cared to admit - there would be a bump there in the morning, and he was sure Jooheon wouldn’t be kind enough to kiss it better for him. He scrambled out from under the table without any elegance, straightening himself up arrogantly despite the way his face was flushed bright red.

Hyungwon was standing on the other side of the table, hands clasped in front of his body and a close-lipped smile on his face, watching him with an annoyingly amused glint in his eyes.

Minhyuk wanted to jump over the table and claw that smug expression out of his face.

“I have, actually,” Minhyuk replied, pulling the string from his pocket and holding it up for Hyungwon to see. “I found your knock-maker.”

“Knock-maker?” Hyungwon echoed and laughed. “How creative.”

“Why are you laughing? I just found proof you’re a fraud!”

“Is that what you think you’ve found? My, are you adorable,” Hyungwon said in that disdainful way of his. Minhyuk felt his eyelid twitch with annoyance. “Tell me, puppy, how do you suppose I used this ‘knock-maker’ if my hands were on top of the table the whole time?”

Minhyuk opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure how to reply. He settled on, “I don’t know, you tell me. You’re the fraud here.”

Hyungwon laughed again. “Adorable.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Minhyuk said. “You’re hiding something and by God, I will find out what it is.”

“By God, you say?” Hyungwon asked, slowly starting to round the table to approach Minhyuk. He wanted to move away, step back to avoid Hyungwon’s proximity, but he stayed put to prove he wasn’t scared of him. “I regret to inform you that God doesn’t give a damn about your little crusade against me.” He stopped right in front of Minhyuk, trapping him there - with the table behind him and a chair on the way, there was nowhere for Minhyuk to run. “Even if He did, you would only succeed if I truly were a fraud, which, unfortunately for you, is not the case.”

“Why should I believe you? You might be saying that only to convince me to leave you and your dirty little secrets alone,” Minhyuk said, chin raised in defiance. Hyungwon blinked slowly at him, a smirk playing on his full lips.

“What do you care about my dirty little secrets, puppy?” Hyungwon asked, bordering on mocking. “What do you think you’ll gain from figuring it all out? To be rewarded a fortune? The praise of your peers? A kiss from your honey?”

Minhyuk’s cheeks grew hot at the mention of Jooheon. “Leave him out of this.”

“Oh? Did I touch a nerve?”

“Of course not, why would that be a sensitive topic?” Minhyuk threw back, hoping he sounded convincing enough despite knowing he didn’t. “All I meant is that Jooheon doesn’t have anything to do with this, this is between you and me.”

“He has everything to do with this,” Hyungwon responded. “The only reasons why you’re so intent on this quest of yours are Jooheon and your wounded pride.”

Minhyuk hated how Hyungwon was right.  _ Again _ . “Just leave him out of this, alright?”

“I could tell you about it, you know,” Hyungwon said, voice lower now, secretive. “All about your future and Jooheon’s.”

Minhyuk froze, eyes going wide, mouth drying out. His heart was close to beating out of his chest, and he hoped Hyungwon couldn’t hear it - that would be embarrassing.

“I could tell you exactly what steps to take to win his heart,” Hyungwon continued, each word hitting Minhyuk right in the most vulnerable parts of him. “I could recite to you his every thought, every opinion he has of you. I could give you accurate predictions of your future, perhaps even guarantee your lifelong happiness. Isn’t that something you want?”

Minhyuk had to grasp the edge of the table to hide how his hands were trembling, had to force himself to maintain a neutral expression so Hyungwon wouldn’t see how tempted he truly was to accept that offer.

“And in exchange you want, what, for me to leave you alone?” he asked, glad that his voice sounded steady when he spoke.

“It is not an unreasonable request, is it? I find it to be quite the even exchange.”

Minhyuk scoffed. “You are so desperate to keep your secrets hidden that you go as far as to offer me lifelong happiness? No deal, fraud.”

“You wound me, puppy,” Hyungwon said and sighed, head tilted slightly to one side as his eyes continued to study Minhyuk’s face. “That implies you have a chance of finding them out.”

Minhyuk bristled like an angry alley cat. “Stop speaking to me as if I am incompetent!”

“I don’t think you are incompetent,” Hyungwon replied. “In fact, I think you are quite resourceful, even if a little crude in your methods. What I meant was, you will find nothing, because there is nothing to be found.”

“I just need to dig deep enough,” Minhyuk said, and hoped it sounded like a threat.

“Any deeper and you’ll find yourself six feet under.”

Oh.  _ That _ was a threat.

Damn him, he was good at wordplay.

“What does that mean? You’ll kill me if I don’t stop poking around?” Minhyuk asked and laughed briefly, derisively. “You don’t scare me, doll.”

“Doll? Be still my racing heart,” Hyungwon mocked. “And no, I won’t kill you, what would that do for me? I’d be stuck with your ghost yapping in my head, I’ll pass.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “You can get yourself killed without any help from me, though.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m not the one you should be worrying about,” Hyungwon whispered. “Or do you think I am the one pulling the strings? The one who is capable of murder for achieving his ends?”

Minhyuk felt a spark of dread at the pit of his stomach. No, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Hyungwon was not the one in control - Guhn was. He remembered very clearly the way Hyungwon reacted the night of their game, when Guhn put his hand on his shoulder and ordered him to play. How he obeyed without making any fuss, no matter how much he seemed to want to go against him.

But no— Hyungwon was the one who was lying. The one with secrets. Minhyuk could read him enough to know that much, Guhn was— No. No, that was another ploy of the snake that was Hyungwon, just another way to distract him from the truth.

Certainly, it must be.

“You’re lying,” Minhyuk said, unwavering. “You are the one hiding something, and trust me when I say this: when I find out what it is, the first person I’m telling is Changkyun.”

For some reason, that made Hyungwon laugh as if he’d heard a very good joke. Minhyuk felt hot with shame. Another threat taken as something to be laughed at.

“You  _ are _ adorable, aren’t you, puppy?” Hyungwon said, wiping at the corner of one of his eyes with his thumb to clear away the tears of laughter that had escaped. “Tell Changkyun everything you want about me and whatever secrets you believe I’m keeping from him - nothing you say will be a surprise, for I have every intention of telling him it all of my own accord.”

“You are very confident that he will accept those secrets.”

Hyungwon arched an eyebrow at him, still looking unbearably smug. “You think he won’t?”

“He might not,” Minhyuk said with a shrug. “He seems like an honest, rational man.”

Hyungwon smirked. “He is a thieving scoundrel of great ambition and a remarkable lack of morals, but it’s nice to know you think so highly of him.”

Minhyuk frowned, taken aback by Hyungwon’s words. “Is that how you speak of your own lover?”

“How do you mean? With honesty? Yes,” Hyungwon said as if it were obvious. “He is entirely rotten, a materialistic, envious, depraved little devil, and I adore him for it. I wouldn’t change him for anything in the universe.”

Minhyuk’s jaw had dropped at some point. What was wrong with those two?

“Those are not things one would consider qualities,” he pointed out.

“I never said they were qualities,” Hyungwon shot back.

“Yet you sound proud of them as if they were.”

“I am proud of them, but not for the reasons you think,” Hyungwon said. “Those reasons are, however, none of your business.”

“What? Have  _ I _ touched a nerve?” Minhyuk asked, his confidence slowly crawling back out from where it’d been hiding.

“Sure you want to go down that road?” Hyungwon said, looking as calm as ever. Minhyuk’s confidence went back into hiding. “You try to get to me through Changkyun, I’ll feel entitled to get to you through Jooheon. I have the upper hand here, as Jooheon is already quite terrified of me.”

“I told you to leave Jooheon out of this.”

“Then leave Changkyun out of this.”

Minhyuk pursed his lips tight, anger radiating out of him with such violence he was surprised it didn’t turn the air around them to poisonous miasma yet.

“Fine,” he got out between gritted teeth. “I’ll stay clear of Changkyun but only as long as Jooheon doesn’t get hurt.”

“He won’t get hurt. Did you not hear a word I said? I’m not your enemy,” Hyungwon said. “Not only that, your honey is Changkyun’s dear friend. I would only have a little fun with him.”

“Just— Stay away from Jooheon.”

“Don’t worry, puppy, your honey is safe from me,” Hyungwon said and grinned, two actions that, combined, gave Minhyuk a feeling of unease. “Although you won’t be able to tell in a couple of weeks, since you’ll be gone to another town and poor Jooheon will be left here all alone.”

Minhyuk gulped and looked away, averting his eyes for the first time since that confrontation began. “Please. If you have any sympathy, please, don’t bother him.”

“You truly must me think me a monster,” Hyungwon commented. Minhyuk could feel his eyes on him, but he didn’t dare meet them - being confronted with the reality that he would leave Jooheon behind very soon made Minhyuk feel ill. “Look at you, already drowning in your regret long before you must as if you have no other choice.”

“I don’t have any other choice.”

“You do, in fact,” Hyungwon said smartly. “There is  _ always _ a choice. You could leave with your tail between your legs like the frightened pup you truly are, or you can choose to have your spoonful of honey.”

Minhyuk finally raised his head to glare at him. “Does it amuse you to needle me with my every insecurity or is that just a talent of yours?”

“Both,” Hyungwon said and smiled proudly. “I’m not the evil you think I am, Minhyuk.” He stepped back, giving Minhyuk more room to move. He could run, if he wanted to. He didn’t. “We are all simply trying to survive in this world and, like you, I am not afraid to cut corners to protect my interests.”

“I can understand that,” Minhyuk said stiffly, hating to agree with something Hyungwon had said but unable to deny it. “You are still an arrogant, abrasive, annoying little cunt.”

Hyungwon chuckled, not seeming at all offended. “Right back at you, puppy.”

Minhyuk’s lips twisted with distaste. “I will still find out what you’re hiding, fraud.”

“Good luck with that,” Hyungwon said and gave him a patronizing pat on the head as if Minhyuk was a dog who had just performed the correct trick. He slapped his hand away. “Do tell me, though: have you reached any explanation regarding how I know so much about your life?”

Minhyuk flinched. “N-no, not yet.”

Hyungwon hummed, pleased. “I see. Have you found anything other than the ‘knock-maker’ to explain the happenings of my séance?”

“No, but—”

Hyungwon suddenly leaned forward, forcing Minhyuk to lean back, away from him, lest they ended up accidentally kissing - the thought of kissing Hyungwon made him want to vomit. Hyungwon paid him no mind, however, as he reached for something behind Minhyuk.

The candle.

“Where’s the valve?” he asked, holding out the candle to him for inspection. Minhyuk shakily took it, turned it around in his hand, touched it in search of any signs or tampering.

Nothing.

“You won’t find anything anywhere, puppy,” Hyungwon said, faking sympathy to mock him - again.

“What about the window?” Minhyuk asked, nodding towards said window to illustrate his question as he put the candle back down on the table.

Hyungwon giggled. “That wasn’t me. It was Changkyun being a brat.”

Minhyuk blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Changkyun is the one who banged on the window. I had nothing to do with it.”

“I— You— What—” Minhyuk stammered.

“What can I say, credit where credit is due - it was just my absolute tornado of a lover.”

“I am going to throttle him,” Minhyuk declared. “Why was he here!?”

“Why do you think?” Hyungwon asked, staring at him as if he were the stupidest person on the planet. “He attends my every séance, he was here to see me. Or do you think he’d go out of his way simply to play a prank on you?”

Minhyuk could feel himself blushing again.

“Listen, puppy,” Hyungwon said with a sigh, his tone losing the arrogant bite for the moment, “as I said, I am not your enemy. In fact, you are entirely insignificant to the tide of my existence, so much that, once we part today, we will not meet like this again in this lifetime. I truly have nothing against you.”

Minhyuk narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Never meet again? That sounded like another one of his tricks.

Hyungwon continued. “I will leave you with a piece of advice and a warning: one, don’t stick your head under the blade of a guillotine if you are not prepared to lose it; and two, if you let your fears control you, you’ll have to fight them alone.”

“Why are you giving me advice instead of threatening me into silence now?” Minhyuk questioned, still not believing Hyungwon’s sincerity.

“I told you - we won’t meet again, not to speak such as we are doing right now. I’d rather we part cordially.”

“I won’t stop digging, you know.”

“I know,” Hyungwon said. “And I also know you’ll find much more than you bargained for. Alas, you are the one who chose not to listen to me, so I’m afraid I can’t do anything about it.”

Hyungwon began to walk away, but Minhyuk stopped him by asking, “Wait, what do you mean we won’t meet to talk like this?”

Hyungwon looked back at him. “You’ll see me one last time, but we won’t speak to each other. I’ll leave a lasting impression on you, though.”

“How can you know that?”

Hyungwon grinned at him, eyes sparkling in a way that felt dangerous, and leaned in just to murmur next to his ear. “Because I’m no fraud, puppy.”

And having said so, Hyungwon walked out of the room graciously, leaving Minhyuk behind to sift through the many new pieces of information given to him during that very strange conversation and swallow the bitter pills of truth Hyungwon had so callously and forcefully fed him.

◦ ◦ ◦

Everything went fine during the couple of days following their move but, around the middle of the first week Hoseok’s health began declining again and hadn’t shown any signs it would get better just yet - it had been two weeks already. It forced Kihyun to shift his focus from figuring out what was happening with Hyunwoo to taking care of Hoseok - a trade he was glad to make. Whatever Hyunwoo was hiding, Hoseok was the one facing a life-threatening illness. Hoseok was the priority. Always.

Kihyun still firmly believed Hyunwoo wasn’t sick - if he found out that he was, then Kihyun would make a few changes in his priority system.

Hyunwoo wasn’t sick, though. Absolutely not.

Hoseok was still shivering under several layers of blankets - Kihyun had lost count of how many blankets there were - and breathing heavily through his mouth. His hair was damp with cold sweat, skin pale and clammy, the circles around his eyes dark and deep; if he wasn’t moving, breathing, Kihyun could believe his love to be a corpse.

It shattered his heart further to see him like that, enough that he was certain that the pieces were close to being fine dust. Yet he couldn’t let himself fall apart, now more than ever; Hoseok needed him to be strong, so strong he would be.

“Ki,” Hoseok called him, his voice cracking and faint, teeth clattering, “I’m cold.”

“I know, bunny,” Kihyun gently said, placing a fresh towel on his forehead, one he’d kept in cold water for a while - it was impossible to figure out how to go about it, with Hoseok complaining about being cold while burning up with fever at the same time. The fever had to be cooled off but he also wanted Hoseok to be comfortable, and yet there was no way to do both.

Hoseok whimpered when the cold towel touched his heated skin. Kihyun hated having to do that to him, no matter how necessary.

“I know it doesn’t feel like it but you’re burning up, I don’t want you to overheat with too many blankets.”

“Ki, please,” Hoseok pleaded, looking up at Kihyun through foggy, half-lidded eyes. Kihyun wanted to scream.

“You’re already warm, I promise,” Kihyun said, stroking Hoseok’s cheek with the back of his fingers. “Give it a few moments and you’ll start feeling better, this is the fever playing tricks on you.”

Hoseok inhaled audibly through his mouth, making a wheezing noise that betrayed how hard it was for him to breathe. Kihyun had to close his eyes for a few seconds, force himself to remain calm when all he wanted to do was weep. He couldn’t handle this situation anymore, couldn’t deal with the stress and the fear, and yet the alternative could not be allowed to pass - the emotional strain was better than losing Hoseok. It was what he told himself any time he felt like he couldn’t go on.

Kihyun shook himself, finding his axis again, and with a frail smile said, “You’ll be fine, bunny, you’ve been through worse than this.” He fixed the blankets on top of Hoseok, tucked them gently around him to make sure no cold air was getting in. “And when you recover, we’ll take the ship out to sea for the day, just us three.”

Hoseok blinked morosely up at him, his lips quirking up in a weak smile. “Will you make those sandwiches with cheese and jam to take with us?”

Kihyun chuckled and nodded in response. “Yes, bunny, I’ll make the sandwiches. It’s been forever since the last time I made them, right?”

“Yes,” Hoseok said, his eyes falling shut as if keeping them open was too much of an effort. “I miss them. I miss all of your cooking, but if we’re taking the ship out to sea we should bring sandwiches.”

“Mhm, you’re right,” Kihyun agreed and began running his fingers through Hoseok’s hair. “Since it’ll still take a few days, how about I make you some soup? It’ll warm you up and help you sweat out the fever faster.”

“You’ll make it?” Hoseok asked. “From scratch?”

“From scratch,” he confirmed. “No canned soup, no soup from the vendor down the street. I’ll make it for you.”

Hoseok’s smile widened, became more present and genuine. “I’d like that.”

“When Hyunwoo gets home and can sit here with you, I’ll go make it,” Kihyun promised. “Or if you fall asleep, whichever comes first.”

“I could sleep,” Hoseok said. Kihyun bit back a smile - food was the best incentive when it came to Hoseok. “Waking up to your cooking sounds great.”

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

“Alright.”

Kihyun smiled gently down at Hoseok, starting to play with his earlobe; it usually worked to help him relax, and this time should be no different. “Still cold?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Are you sure I can’t have another blanket?”

“I told you, bunny, you’re already burning up. You have more than enough blankets, give it some time.”

“Fine,” Hoseok grumbled and burrowed himself deeper under the blankets. He was still shivering, although not as much as before. It felt like progress. “Sing to me?”

“What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything,” he replied. “I just want to hear your voice.”

Kihyun smiled and nodded to agree to Hoseok’s request, taking a few moments to think of an appropriate song to sing; something soothing. His voice would probably not sound as steady and clear as it once was - it’d been a while since Kihyun sang, mostly because he was often too concerned with other things to even remember that he  _ could _ sing - but he wouldn’t sing loud enough for his vocal control to matter much.

He settled on singing an old lullaby, one he’d learned long ago, even before he met Hoseok and Hyunwoo, from the time when his mother was still alive. The same she would sing to him when he was sick.

It felt bittersweet to be singing it now to Hoseok, nostalgia mixing with the sadness of witnessing his lover’s suffering, of not being able to do anything to help him feel better other than sing. Was that how his mother felt whenever Kihyun got sick? Did she feel just as powerless? Helpless?

Singing would not cure Hoseok - of course not, they weren’t living inside a fairytale and good intentions weren’t worth a penny - but it did help him relax enough to fall asleep within a few minutes. It didn’t surprise Kihyun; Hoseok must have been exhausted from the physical strain of bearing the fever. He needed as much sleep as he could get.

Not too long after he stopped singing, quietly watching over Hoseok to monitor his fever, Kihyun heard the front door. He got up, fixing the blankets on top of Hoseok to make sure he was warm before padding out of the bedroom to welcome Hyunwoo. He found him carrying a large paper bag of what looked to be groceries in one arm, his free hand busy with locking the door of their apartment. Hyunwoo smiled when he noticed Kihyun’s presence, although it was a muted smile, not quite reaching his eyes.

“Hey,” he said in greeting. “I brought medicine for Hoseok, as well as some honey and lemon to make him tea.”

“Thank you, dearest,” Kihyun said as he approached, getting on the tips of his toes to press a kiss to Hyunwoo’s cheek. “He just fell asleep.”

“How is his fever?”

Kihyun sighed, glancing towards the bedroom. “Not much better. It’s fading, but not fast enough.” He turned to Hyunwoo again. “He’s not having any coughing fits, at least.”

“Small mercies,” Hyunwoo murmured before he moved to the kitchen to drop off his purchases. Kihyun followed him. 

“I’ll make him soup,” he informed. “I might have to run down to the grocer to buy some ingredients.”

“I’ll stay with him, don’t worry,” Hyunwoo said; the smile he shot Kihyun was more genuine this time around. “Will you need help with something? I can chop the vegetables.”

“It’s alright, you should rest for a while,” he replied, just as Hyunwoo began pulling out the items he had in the bag and placing them on the counter. “I can set up a makeshift bed next to Hoseok’s so you can nap close to him, that way you can—”

Kihyun cut himself off when he caught a glimpse of something when Hyunwoo pulled the container of honey from the bag. He hadn’t seen it before, as Hyunwoo had taken to wearing very long sleeves that almost swallowed his hands - he’d gone as far as to cut holes in the sleeves of his shirts for his thumbs - but so far Kihyun attributed it to the weather getting colder. In fact, he felt like he should start doing the same - long sleeves with holes for your thumbs were a great idea.

But now— now he was certain the cold wasn’t the reason.

The motion of raising his arm to reach inside the bag caused his sleeve to hike up on his arm, and that allowed Kihyun to see, very clearly, how swollen and bruised Hyunwoo’s knuckles were.

“Hyunwoo, let me see your hand.”

Hyunwoo might as well have turned to stone. He didn’t move or react for several seconds, seconds during which Kihyun’s worry and concern went critical. Normally, he would start shouting and lose his composure completely whenever that happened, but he couldn’t do that right now - Hoseok had  _ just _ fallen asleep, and at least asleep he suffered less. He wasn’t going to let his nerves affect Hoseok’s recovery.

He took a deep breath, reeling in the part of him that wanted to scream at Hyunwoo, and very clearly and calmly repeated, “Let me see your hand.”

Hyunwoo flinched at the order as if Kihyun had yelled at him. “Ki, I—”

“ _ Now _ , Hyunwoo.”

Hyunwoo’s nostrils expanded as he inhaled deeply for a few seconds, his jaw set, tense. Kihyun simply waited, staring at Hyunwoo and barely blinking - Hyunwoo might be the oldest and biggest one of them, but Kihyun, small and physically weak as he was, was still the scariest when angered. He never figured out why, exactly, that was, but he never experienced his own wrath to find out; he had to trust his lovers’ reactions.

As if in slow motion, Hyunwoo lifted one of his hands and moved his sleeve out of the way, hiking it up until just above his wrist before he extended his hand forward for Kihyun’s inspection. Kihyun gasped at the sight of Hyunwoo’s knuckles - that glimpse he caught was not enough to prepare him for it.

His knuckles were bruised green and yellow and so swollen it was like someone had injected air under his skin. There were cuts too, a particularly ugly one on his middle knuckle, all of them already healing - how long had Hyunwoo been hiding them? His hands were fine the day they moved there, of that Kihyun was sure; he would give it three days or so, considering how the bruises weren’t purple anymore, how the cuts were scabbed over and starting to heal.

Kihyun swallowed, something that was quite difficult to do with the lump of anger and concern clogging his throat, but he still managed to sound firm when he said, “Show me the other one.”

Hyunwoo must have realized that resistance was futile, for he quietly extended his other hand towards Kihyun after lifting his sleeve. The damage to that hand was not quite as bad as the other one, but that, too, was bruised, swollen, and scraped. Kihyun almost wanted to slap his hands right on top of the injuries to teach him a lesson - the lesson being ‘do not hide things from me because I will find out eventually and you’ll be sorry’.

“What happened?” he demanded. “Did you get in a fight?”

Hyunwoo pressed his lips together, fidgeting where he stood. “A heavy crate of liquor fell on my hands at the market a couple of days ago.”

That was a lie and both of them knew it. “If that’s so, why were you so intent on trying to hide it?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Tell me the truth.”

Hyunwoo swallowed hard, clearly nervous. “It is the truth.”

“Stop lying to me,” Kihyun whispered the words, and that got Hyunwoo more scared than he would have been had he shouted. “What happened?”

Hyunwoo didn’t answer for a few seconds, nervously licking his lips. When he finally opened his mouth, it was to say the same thing he’d said before. “A crate fell on my hands.”

“Don’t lie to me!” Kihyun shout-hissed at Hyunwoo, still making the effort to keep his voice low as to not bother Hoseok’s slumber. “What really happened to your hands!?”

“A crate—”

“Stop lying!”

“Ki, please, this is nothing, I really—” Hyunwoo started, reaching out to try to touch Kihyun, but he jerked away from his grasp before he could do so.

“Screw you, Hyunwoo,” Kihyun snapped. “If you’re not going to tell me the truth, don’t bother telling me anything at all.”

“Kihyun, I—”

“Don’t,” Kihyun warned, one finger raised at him. “Don’t you dare say another word if you’ll just keep lying.” He took a deep breath to calm down and, once he was more composed, said, “I’m going to the grocer buy ingredients for Hoseok’s soup, when I come back I’ll take care of your hands.”

“Alright, thank you for—”

“Don’t talk to me,” Kihyun said between gritted teeth. He was so angry he was shaking. Hyunwoo flinched. “I’m done playing this damn game with you, if you don’t want to be honest with me, then fine, suit yourself, but don’t think for a  _ second _ I’ll pretend everything is alright because I won’t. I can’t do this anymore, I’m too tired to handle your lies on top of everything else, so if you to talk to me again, do it when you decide to tell me the fucking truth.”

He turned, not caring at all that he’d cursed more than once during his conversation with Hyunwoo, something he would never have done were he thinking straight, and stormed his way out of the kitchen to get his coat, his keys, and his wallet. His jaw was locked so hard his joints hurt, hands shaking with the strain of keeping his wrath and frustration contained.

Somehow he managed to walk away without falling apart, his head held high through pride alone, and he was glad that he looked composed enough to seem less murderous than he felt when he walked towards the door - Hyunwoo was quietly watching him from the kitchen, guilt obvious in his face but also a quiet determination.

Kihyun didn’t care if Hyunwoo was determined to keep his secrets or not - he  _ would _ break sooner or later. The silent treatment was usually enough for Hyunwoo to crack, not because he needed to speak with Kihyun to be well, but because he hated when they were mad at each other.

Hyunwoo was soft on the inside; he didn’t like Kihyun or Hoseok being upset with him. Not speaking to him for a few days and making his unhappiness obvious would fix everything.

Or, at least, that was what Kihyun hoped would happen.

If it didn’t, Kihyun already had a backup plan, and that one— that one was undoubtedly going to work.

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ghostlike91) | [tumblr](https://ghostlike91.tumblr.com/) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ghostlike)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i went back and forth trying to decide if i should post this chapter early or not, but i decided to go for it. it's been a hard day - a hard week, actually - and i figured we could do with a break from all the sadness. i'll expand on it in the end notes.
> 
> for now, warning for (a very brief) mention of suicidal thoughts and a little bit of violence
> 
> enjoy!♡

◦

As was now his routine, Changkyun went straight to the servants’ door upon arriving at the mansion, confidently making his way toward the kitchen. He was building quite a good relationship with the kitchen ladies - they were a tight-knit circle and kept themselves apart from the other servants, meaning they truly didn’t babble about any of their secrets. They were also extremely loyal to Hyungwon, which made them loyal to Changkyun by proxy; it was thanks to them that Changkyun hadn’t been detected by Guhn yet during his visits to the mansion. Kyla, in particular, proved very helpful in their efforts to keep their meetings hidden, be it from Guhn or the other servants.

And they also had let him spit in Guhn’s food once. That had been wonderful.

He knocked and waited for Mrs. Kim’s permission to enter before letting himself inside the kitchen, all four women greeting him warmly from their usual posts. Changkyun smiled and said his hellos to each of them.

“Master Hyungwon is expecting you in his study,” Kyla informed him. She’d been setting up a small plate of cookies when he entered and was now busying herself with pouring tea into two porcelain cups. “I was about to take these to him, I’ll accompany you there.”

“Oh, alright,” Changkyun stammered.

Something about those cups of tea and the cookies gave the situation a strange feeling of formality. Hyungwon would often offer him food and drink during his visits, but those usually happened in other parts of the mansion - that old gazebo by the stream, the gardens, one of the parlors. They didn’t spend time in his study at all, and in the off-chance they did, Hyungwon would offer him tea  _ after _ he’d arrived instead of ordering it made beforehand.

Their usual meetings were far less formal - they were spontaneous and fun, for all that they tended to be brief. Ordering tea to be made before a guest arrives is common etiquette, one Hyungwon was certainly familiar with; that was a deliberate decision of his, he knew what he was doing.

It had Changkyun’s insides tied up in knots - not a new sensation when it came to Hyungwon and his penchant for half-statements, so ignoring it was easy enough. His curiosity, however, did not decrease in the slightest.

He said his farewells to the women and quietly followed Kyla out of the kitchen, crossing the corridor that separated the servants’ wing from the main house. That corridor led directly to the dining room, and from there getting up to Hyungwon’s study was simple to accomplish without being noticed - they used the spiral stairs in the rotunda, passing through rooms scarcely frequented and, after only a couple of minutes, they reached their destination.

Changkyun knocked on the door in Kyla’s stead, seeing that she had her hands occupied with the tray of tea and cookies. Kyla gave him a soft smile of appreciation.

“Come in,” came Hyungwon’s voice, and Changkyun helpfully opened the door to allow Kyla entrance first.

Hyungwon was sitting at the small round table where he did his tarot readings, a few cards resting atop the purple cloth face-up in a complicated pattern Changkyun had no clue how to interpret. He looked up at them and smiled, clearing his cards from the table swiftly to open up space for the tray.

“You can put that here, Kyla,” he said. She promptly did as Hyungwon asked, placing the tray carefully on the table. “Thank you.”

She gave him a smile and a quick nod, before making her way out of the room. Changkyun waited for Kyla to close the door behind her and for the sound of her footsteps to fade completely before he did what he’d wanted to do since arrived at the mansion and lunged at Hyungwon, just carefully enough to avoid spilling tea all over the table. Hyungwon’s only reaction was to squeak with surprise, making no effort to stop Changkyun from sitting on his lap.

“This is supposed to be a business meeting,” Hyungwon pointed out as he laughed, and Changkyun replied by kissing him hard on the mouth to express just how much he did not care about propriety in a ‘business meeting’ with his own boyfriend. He’d much rather have a business pillow talk than a business meeting.

Of course, pillow talk usually involved more than just kissing beforehand, but they weren’t at that stage. Yet. Changkyun’s plan was to change that as soon as possible - straddling Hyungwon’s lap felt like a good place to start.

Not that Hyungwon agreed with him, because after only a few seconds of kissing he was already pulling away and trying to keep Changkyun still. “Stop, I have important things to talk to you about and you’re making it hard for me to think.”

“We can talk about it after I’m done with you,” Changkyun said right before he shifted his focus to Hyungwon’s neck, intent on leaving behind at least one love bite. He never got there, however, because Hyungwon put one hand on his forehead and pushed Changkyun’s head back, away from his neck. Changkyun pouted at him and whined. “Won!”

“Can you behave for five minutes, please?” Hyungwon said, earnest for all that he was still laughing. “Is this how you act during all your job interviews?”

“Only if the interviewer is as attractive as you,” he answered and gave Hyungwon a kiss on the cheek. That much Hyungwon allowed, at least. Changkyun stopped himself then, realizing what Hyungwon had said, and frowned, pulling back of his own accord to face his lover. “Wait, is this a job interview?”

“You would already know the answer to that if you had behaved from the start,” Hyungwon said with a smug grin.

Changkyun made a soft sound of complaint. “Can’t I enjoy being with you for five minutes?”

“Your ‘five minutes’ never last only five minutes,” Hyungwon said. “And think about it: the faster we’re done talking, the sooner you can ‘enjoy being with me’ without interruptions.”

Changkyun huffed and pouted before begrudgingly saying, “I suppose you’re right.” He leaned back until his back touched the edge of the table, then took Hyungwon’s hands, threaded his fingers with his, and continued with a little more seriousness. “How is your headache?”

“It’s alright. I told you all I needed was a good night’s sleep.”

“I was worried Minhyuk had riled you up after we parted last night,” he admitted. “Your headaches always get worse when you’re upset.”

Hyungwon smiled at him, eyes sparkling at Changkyun’s thoughtful observation. “He didn’t upset me, my conversation with him went as well as it possibly could. Although he did call me, and I quote, ‘an arrogant, abrasive, annoying little cunt’.”

Changkyun choked on his own saliva upon hearing Hyungwon curse so nonchalantly, needing a few seconds to stop coughing while Hyungwon waited in silence, amused at his reaction. “He what!?”

“He called me a—”

“I heard what he called you!” he said hurriedly. His heart couldn’t take Hyungwon saying profanities like that, bold as brass. Once for the day was more than enough. “I just can’t believe he said that to your face.”

Hyungwon chuckled, still radiating amusement. “Well, he did. He also threatened me to tell  _ you _ all my dirty little secrets, if he ever found any.”

Changkyun snorted. “How did that work out for him?”

“I gently explained to him that you’ll hear of my secrets from my own mouth and that you will likely not be bothered at all by them. I also told him he should stop assuming you’re an honest man when the reality is that you’re rotten to the core and have no morals.”

Laughter exploded out of Changkyun. “I wish I’d been there to see his face, what must he think of us?”

“Probably that we are the worst couple on the planet,” Hyungwon said, also laughing.

“Maybe we are,” Changkyun mused once he managed to contain his giggles. “I don’t care what he thinks, though.”

“Me neither,” Hyungwon agreed, nuzzling Changkyun’s nose lovingly. “I don’t care what anyone thinks.”

“Good,” Changkyun whispered and kissed Hyungwon sweetly before saying against his lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Hyungwon murmured in response, a giddy smile on his face. “Now, are you going to sit on your own chair and behave so we can talk?”

“I’m fine right here.”

“Please? You’re crushing my legs.”

“Ugh,  _ fine _ , paper boy,” Chankyun complained jokingly and at last got up from Hyungwon’s lap to take a seat on the empty chair waiting for him next to Hyungwon. Hyungwon groaned with relief and stretched out his long legs under the table, an action that made Changkyun roll his eyes. “I’m not  _ that _ heavy.”

“You are to me, I’m frail and sensitive,” Hyungwon whined. “Think of my bones as those dry, fragile sticks you find on the ground during autumn, the ones that snap under any pressure? Those are me, I relate to those sticks on a metaphysical level.”

“I never thought I would ever agree with Guhn about something, but by God, are you dramatic,” Changkyun said in a teasing tone. Hyungwon stuck out his tongue at him. “Such refinement.”

“Shut up,” Hyungwon ordered without any bite, barely holding back a smile. “Can I say what I have to say now or do you have something else to add to our very constructive conversation?”

“No, you can speak now.”

“Thank you,” Hyungwon said and cleared his throat, straightening himself up on his chair. “What you did last night, banging on the window during the séance, it got me thinking.”

“It’s not too hard to get you thinking, though, you’re always thinking.”

“Shush, don’t interrupt,” he said, still not sounding at all annoyed. “The thing about séances,” he continued, leaning forward on the table and resting his elbows there, lacing his fingers together as he looked at Changkyun, “is that people don’t attend them out of a desire to speak with ghosts. Or, at least, most people don’t - they want to be amazed. They want to be scared. They want to go home and tell all their friends about how frightening it was to commune with the dead.”

Changkyun listened quietly, taking in everything Hyungwon was telling him. It made sense - he didn’t have the experience Hyungwon had, but he’d heard people speak of séances. They hardly ever mentioned what the dead said to them, instead focusing on what they witnessed during the session; floating tables, ectoplasm, rappings.

Entertainment - they wanted entertainment. That’s what Hyungwon was trying to say.

“While I’ve had several clients that only wished to speak to their deceased loved ones, no flare, no dramatics, most people request my services wishing for a more— elaborate performance,” Hyungwon explained. “I  _ am _ a real medium and I  _ can _ speak to the dead. I am, however, not a magician. I don’t do parlor tricks. To perform the physical phenomenon the people want to see during my séances, it takes a lot of my energy and focus - spirits are, after all, not trained puppies that can jump through hoops on command.”

Changkyun squinted at Hyungwon as he considered those words; he was slowly inching towards the point Hyungwon was trying to make but not quite certain he was on the right track. He decided to voice his suspicions to find out. “What you’re saying is that you need help to make your séances more ‘elaborate’.”

“Basically,” Hyungwon concluded and smiled brightly at him. “You banging on the window last night was the highest point of my séance, and that was something you did on a whim. Imagine the things we could do with a little planning.”

Changkyun blinked several times as he processed all that information, what Hyungwon was proposing. Hyungwon noticed his confusion and reached out to take one of Changkyun’s hands, a simple gesture that did wonders to keep him focused.

“You see,” Hyungwon continued, “if I only let the dead speak through me, that won’t make for a very entertaining session. I don’t say this to brag, but I am very good at what I do, and that is, unfortunately, something that makes my séances far too simple to be the spectacle people want to see. When I commune with the dead it’s— easy. It’s not what the audience wants.”

“Wait, let me see if I am getting this correctly,” Changkyun said, one hand raised to halt Hyungwon from speaking. “You want  _ me _ to help  _ you _ make your séances more— extravagant?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘extravagant’. Less is more, but yes, that is correct,” Hyungwon confirmed. “I understand if this is not something you’re interested in doing—”

“I’m interested,” Changkyun said quickly. A chance of working with Hyungwon and spending more time with him? He was definitely interested.

Hyungwon blinked, taken aback at how eager Changkyun sounded but still pleased with it, a sheepish smile on his lips. “Good to hear. You— you’re the only person I trust for this and the only one who would perform this task well.”

Changkyun raised an eyebrow at him. “How so?”

“You revel in chaos and your specialty is making noise.”

“Oh. You’re not wrong.”

“Mhm, I know I’m not,” Hyungwon chirped. “I can also confidently presume you’d be delighted to scare the living soul out of my patrons.”

“Most definitely,” Changkyun confirmed. “What does Guhn think about this?”

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks, this isn’t about him.”

He frowned then, more confused about that statement than everything else Hyungwon had said about séances. “Isn’t Guhn your business partner?”

“Yes, but you’d be  _ my _ business partner, not his,” Hyungwon explained. “I have a contract with Guhn that states that we share any and every profit we make through any means - my séances and his investments. You would not be added to that equation, because Guhn would never agree to be paid less just so we can make our cuts even between the three of us. The contract, however, does not forbid me from using my cut the way I please - any profit made by  _ me _ , individually, would be shared with you without Guhn having any say.”

“I see,” Changkyun said slowly as he pondered over all that information. “I always thought he helped you during the séances.”

Hyungwon snorted. “He never lifted a finger to help me with anything, which is another reason why he has no right to tell me how to conduct my sessions.”

“I still don’t think he would be very pleased if he found out you have a secret business partner.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t be a secret,” Hyungwon said, his smile turning mischievous. “That brings me to my final proposal.”

Changkyun gave Hyungwon a suspicious look, his eyes narrowed. “Why are you smiling like that? Should I be worried?”

“You never have to worry about a thing with me,  _ angel _ ,” Hyungwon said, the nickname being drawled out teasingly. Changkyun rolled his eyes again. He really had to stop calling Hyungwon cutesy nicknames, they always came back to haunt him. “I am going to ask you something, but before I do, I want you to know that you are allowed to say ‘no’ and only accept the rest of the deal. This last offer doesn’t need to be included.”

“That is making me worry,  _ baby _ ,” Changkyun shot back. He could use nicknames ironically too. “What is it?”

“I’m going to go against every piece of advice I’ve ever heard and mix business with pleasure,” Hyungwon said, shifting in his seat so he could lean closer to Changkyun. Changkyun simply waited, holding his breath in anticipation. “You have my schedule of séances but, sometimes, we get last-minute appointments, sessions that get canceled or rescheduled. If we are going to go through with this, you’d have to be constantly aware of any changes, otherwise it would be chaos.”

Changkyun swallowed, heart beating so fast he was certain Hyungwon was able to feel it through their joined hands. He had a suspicion as to what Hyungwon was getting at, but it felt too ludicrous to believe.

“Won, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Hyungwon bit his lower lip nervously, anxiously, and in a soft, insecure voice, asked, “How would you like to come live here with me?”

Changkyun’s jaw dropped with shock. “I— You— You mean, live here? At the mansion?”

“Yes,” Hyungwon confirmed. “Of course, I wouldn’t be able to give you the same power Guhn or myself hold here, but you would be a master of his place.”

Changkyun blinked repeatedly. His ears were buzzing with shock. “Wait. You want me to come live here with you, and not as a servant. Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Obviously, or did you think I’d bring you to live with me only to banish you to the servants’ wing?”

“I— Hyungwon, are you serious?” Changkyun felt the need to ask. “This is— this is insane, Guhn would never agree to this.”

“Forget about Guhn for a second,” Hyungwon said, his other hand coming up to cover Changkyun’s, the one he was still holding. “He would have no say because I would, officially, name you my personal assistant - it would not be much different than his personal valet, except the reality is that you and I are equals. I have every right to hire a personal assistant, meaning that Guhn’s opinion is worthless.”

“So you would  _ publicly _ say I’m your assistant, but that’s a lie?”

“Exactly. Whatever lie we need to tell to keep both of us safe and the nature of our relationship private will be just that - a lie. The reality is that you are my lover and we are running a business operation together, and nobody needs to know that but us.”

Changkyun breathed in slowly, deeply, one, two, three times. It felt surreal. Hyungwon was truly asking him to live under the same roof as him. Not only that, he was offering to share his wealth with him, to partake in his lifestyle, to have servants, to earn more money he could even imagine, money he had no idea how to spend. He was offering him the chance for them to be together all day every day, without him having to sneak in to see him or follow him around to attend his séances.

It was— everything he wanted. Every single one of his wildest dreams being offered to him out of the blue on a silver platter by the hand of the person he loved the most.

It was too good to be true.

“You don’t have to accept it,” Hyungwon said, fast and a little panicky, when Changkyun took too long to speak or react. “I don’t want to pressure you, I know we haven’t been together long and that this is a big commitment, I—”

“Won, hush,” Changkyun gently said, covering Hyungwon’s hands with the hand he still had free, and now all four of their hands were piled atop one another. “I’m not feeling pressured.”

“You’re not?” Hyungwon asked, sounding meek and unsure.

“I’m not, baby. Come here,” Changkyun said with a nod to prompt Hyungwon to approach him, which he did without objection. He got up from his chair to come closer to Changkyun, who pulled him to sit sideways on his own lap. Hyungwon went easily, like he always did. “Are you sure this is what  _ you _ want?”

Hyungwon nodded in response. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot for a while now, about asking you to come live with me - it’s not something I’m offering on impulse.”

“Alright,” Changkyun said, arms wrapped around Hyungwon tight in a way to reassure him that he hadn’t said anything that bothered him or made him uncomfortable; the way Hyungwon relaxed in his embrace was proof enough that it was working. “This will probably take some getting used to and a lot of patience if we want to make it work, but— I want it. I want this.”

Just the thought he would soon be able to be close to Hyungwon all the time made him dizzy. Going to sleep together, waking up together, working together - he never knew it was possible to be this happy without bursting. It was a big— no, a  _ huge _ step for them to take so soon into their relationship, yet it felt… right. Changkyun felt like he made the right decision.

He was nervous, appropriately so, but not scared. Sharing a living space with Hyungwon didn’t feel scary. Sharing a  _ life _ with Hyungwon didn’t feel scary. It felt like the most logical, obvious thing to do - maybe he would have thought differently if it was someone else and not Hyungwon, but Hyungwon was— Changkyun felt like he’d known Hyungwon all his life. Jooheon would likely freak out when he told him, say it was too soon and that something was not right, but to Changkyun it didn’t feel too soon. On the contrary - it felt overdue.

Hyungwon blinked, eyes widening in surprise. “You do?”

“Yes,” Changkyun confirmed, and now neither of them could keep from smiling anymore. “I want to help you with your séances and I want to come live with you.”

Hyungwon beamed at him, an airy, incredulous little chuckle escaping his lips. “Are you serious? Because I could arrange transportation for you every day if you don’t want to stay at the mansion.”

“I’m dead serious,” Changkyun promised. “I don’t want to sneak around to see you anymore, and I want to be here when you need me. I want to take care of you.”

“You do know I can take care of myself, right?” Hyungwon asked softly, resting his forehead against Changkyun’s.

“You know what I mean. I don’t like having to leave knowing you’ll stay behind with Guhn - I’d rather be here, where I can keep an eye on him and make sure he’s treating you well,” he said. “I don’t want to be over an hour away with no means of reaching you if you need me. I want to be  _ here _ , where you are.”

He’d never seen Hyungwon smiling so wide before, with so much sincerity, his eyes sparkling with joy. It took Changkyun’s breath away.

He was never so certain about a decision in his entire life.

Jooheon would probably kill him, though.

◦ ◦ ◦

Hoseok watched Kihyun attentively from the moment he walked into the bedroom, a bowl of soup in one hand and a glass of water in the other - as attentively as he could through his foggy mind, that is. It was difficult to focus when his thoughts were scattered all around, every muscle of his body ached, and he felt uncomfortable and clammy under the blankets.

His fever finally broke sometime during the night, but he still felt sluggish, heavy-headed; he wanted to sleep, but he also didn’t. He wasn’t sure if he would wake up again.

One of the many things he worried about ever since he found out he was ill - going to sleep and never waking up.

He wasn’t afraid of dying, not anymore. It had been long enough that he’d made his peace with it, as it was something he would inevitably face - something  _ all _ of them would inevitably face, be it in a week or in ten years. His concern didn’t stem from being scared of dying but, instead, of what would happen to Kihyun and Hyunwoo once he passed. He was afraid of— of not being  _ there _ .

He hated to think of how it would happen - would they be by his bedside or would they leave one day and return to find him lifeless in his bed? The latter was the worst possible thing that could happen. It would add guilt to their grief, because they would blame themselves for not being there in his last moments.

He had considered ending it all himself. Spare his loves from the pain of watching him wilt away. He would never go through with it, he knew, but the thought had crossed his mind more than once. 

He’d also thought of the possibility of sneaking away when Kihyun and Hyunwoo were out or asleep, and checking himself into a sanatorium all on his own, to return once he was fully recovered and no longer a burden to them. It felt too cruel to do that, though - in their place, Hoseok would be crushed and filled with concern, and in the event he didn’t recover, in case he died in some faraway facility, how would they feel? He would have left without even saying goodbye to them.

His only choice was to endure and make the effort to get better, to trust Hyunwoo and Kihyun to make the best decisions they could, because they were the ones who would be alive at the end of that road. The ones who would have to mourn him and live with the consequences of their choices, for better or worse.

And he wanted to get better, he honestly, truly did - he missed having a life outside his bed, missed feeling strong, missed being with his lovers and enjoying their company. He could feel his illness eating away at him, chipping away at his lifespan a little bit at a time, and he could feel, clear as day, that he wouldn’t be around for much longer. Not without a miracle.

The three of them were still so young - they had so many plans. Everything had been put on hold because of him, and he wanted to get better  _ so _ bad so they could get back on track, keep working towards the goals they had once set for themselves, and Hoseok was aware that it might not be possible for him to see it happen. The likelihood he would be dead within the next few months was very high.

He would still fight as hard as he could to stay alive for as long as he was able, not for himself, but for Kihyun and Hyunwoo. If he was to die so soon, he wanted to go knowing he did everything he could to get better, and he wanted to be sure his loves would be able to carry on without him.

Currently, however, if he suddenly passed, Hoseok would not be able to rest easy in the afterlife and he would not have it.

Kihyun sat down next to him, on the chair by the bed, and left the glass of water on the nightstand. Hoseok simply watched, taking note of his pinched expression, the tense line of his lips, how he seemed to be avoiding his gaze. Kihyun thought himself an impenetrable fortress, believed he was a master at concealing his emotions, but Hoseok knew better. Kihyun was transparent as glass and just as fragile - all the more reason for Hoseok to admire his strength, how graciously he was dealing with their situation.

Kihyun finally met his eyes and gave him a soft smile. Hoseok didn’t feel like smiling, but he did so anyway for Kihyun’s peace of mind.

“There’s still some soup left if you want more after this,” Kihyun said, already making to take the spoon to feed him.

Hoseok spoke up before he could. “I can eat by myself, Ki.”

Kihyun stopped mid-motion and sighed, giving him a knowing glance, and passed the bowl over to him. “As you say, bunny.”

“Thank you,” Hoseok said as he accepted the bowl, placing it carefully on his lap. “I’m sick but I’m not an invalid, you know.”

“If you don’t want me to spoil you, then I won’t,” Kihyun said in his dignified way of trying to convince Hoseok he wasn’t being overbearing. It was sweet that he wanted to preserve Hoseok’s pride by acting as if he just wanted to ‘spoil’ him, but it got a bit irritating after a while - Kihyun wasn’t fooling anyone. Hoseok only played dumb for the sake of not worrying him even more, no matter how it grated at him to be treated like a useless lump.

Hoseok wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t naive, though. Kihyun treated him like a toddler out of three reasons: guilt, pity, and fear. Guilt for not being able to do more to help him, pity to see him wasting away, and fear of losing him. Hyunwoo was exactly the same.

How ironic it was; once upon a time, Hoseok would be the first in line to lean back and let his lovers spoil him. He loved being pampered, loved being babied, loved not having to lift a finger, and now— now there was no choice. He was too weak to even stand most days, and he depended on Hyunwoo and Kihyun for most everything. He needed them to provide him with food and medicine, needed them to watch over him, needed them to even bathe him sometimes and it was— humiliating. He felt useless. He felt like a burden, dead-weight his lovers had to drag around.

And yet, the alternative was not an alternative at all.

Maybe that was some form of divine punishment for his old behavior, God’s way of teaching him a lesson - he’d been lazy and he’d been vain, and now there he was. Stuck on a bed, his beauty stripped away. God sure had a wicked sense of humor.

He took the first spoonful of soup, hot but not enough to burn his mouth, and hummed happily at the taste. He’d missed Kihyun’s food so much. “Still as good as it was last night.”

“I somehow doubt that,” Kihyun said, although he was smiling with pride. “How are you feeling?”

“My body hurts and my head feels heavy,” he admitted. No point hiding his symptoms from the people trying to make him better.

“You should try to get some sleep once you’re done eating,” Kihyun suggested.

Hoseok already knew he wasn’t going to sleep, not if he could help it, but still he smiled and said, “Yes, I think I might.” He ate some more of the soup, taking his time chewing one particularly large piece of carrot to get his thoughts in order. Once he swallowed his food properly, he looked at Kihyun and asked, “What is going on between you and Hyunwoo?”

Kihyun blinked, the only action that betrayed his surprise. “Nothing, why?”

“Because you haven’t spoken a word to him since last night and he didn’t give you a kiss this morning before leaving for work.”

Kihyun exhaled audibly, sounding almost as if he was hissing through his nose. “Everything is fine, we just had a small argument.”

“You wouldn’t give him the silent treatment over a small argument,” he said and took another spoonful of soup. Kihyun deserved a moment to think up his next lie. Or perhaps find the words to tell him the truth - Hoseok was feeling quite optimistic that afternoon.

“Very well, maybe it wasn’t that small of an argument,” Kihyun admitted, his words clipped. “I thought that this might be a good way to find out what he’s hiding.”

Hoseok hummed, considering. “It usually is.” He lowered his spoon back to the bowl and raised his head to meet Kihyun’s gaze. “I don’t want you two angry at each other.”

“Hoseok, this is not—”

“Ki, please,” he said. “Whatever issues you two are having, please, solve it as soon as possible. We don’t need one more thing to worry about.”

Kihyun’s sure expression wavered for a moment and he looked down at the ground briefly to gather himself before locking his eyes with Hoseok’s again. “Don’t you want to find out what he’s hiding?”

“I do. What I don’t want is for you two to fight over this,” he said, reaching out a hand to take Kihyun’s. “Besides… I’m not sure I have enough time to wait for him to relent and confess.”

Kihyun stiffened in his seat, his fingers clutching Hoseok’s hand tight. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth, Ki.”

“It’s not, you—”

“It  _ is _ ,” he insisted, as firm as he could. “I could be dead tomorrow for all we know, so— just fix this. For me?”

“You’re not going to be dead tomorrow, you’re already recovering from the fever,” Kihyun said, stubborn to the bone. “I understand, though. I… I do have an idea on how to go about this, in case the silence doesn’t work.”

“Whatever it takes for you two to stop fighting.”

“Alright, but just because you’re the one asking,” Kihyun said and smiled at him. It didn’t reach his eyes, it was not at all believable, but Hoseok pretended it was and smiled in return. “I might have to go out tonight to do it. Do you think you’ll be alright on your own for a few hours?”

He couldn’t know that. He didn’t feel like his health would stay stable for long - the fever took a lot out of him. Still, he said, “Mhm, I’ll be fine.”

“Very well,” Kihyun said and sighed, bringing Hoseok’s hand to his lips to plant a kiss over his knuckles. “Finish your soup before it gets cold.”

He quietly obeyed Kihyun’s kind order, turning his feeble focus to the soup once more. He trusted Kihyun to deal with his fight with Hyunwoo; Kihyun was resourceful and intelligent, and Hyunwoo was a softy. Even if Kihyun didn’t find out what Hyunwoo was hiding from them, Hoseok was confident they would at least make peace with each other.

If not, he would use his sway to force them to make up. It’s not like they could deny their dying boyfriend anything - that was the only perk of his illness and he would absolutely make use of it if he had to.

◦ ◦ ◦

While it wasn’t rare for Changkyun to come to visit him at the circus, it was very rare for him to bring food along. So when Jooheon spotted Changkyun coming his way carrying a box with the logo of a relatively expensive bakery, his first reaction was to become suspicious.

“What did you do?” Jooheon asked once Changkyun reached him, giving him a deadpan stare. Changkyun gave him a nervous grin - which only proved Changkyun had done something wrong.

“Hello to you too, I suppose,” Changkyun said awkwardly and raised the box in his hands in an obvious attempt of distracting him. “I brought scones. With— with jam. The ones you like.”

Jooheon narrowed his eyes at Changkyun and crossed his arms. He tried to ignore the delicious smell of fresh pastries coming from the box, how it teased his appetite. He hadn’t had lunch yet. “What did you do?”

Changkyun opened his mouth and snapped it shut again, looking around nervously for a moment before whispering to Jooheon, “Is there somewhere we can talk? Preferably somewhere you can sit down?”

Jooheon took a deep breath, his anxiety spiking. He didn’t even have to ask to know this was somehow related to Hyungwon -  _ everything _ was related to Hyungwon.

Who could have given Changkyun the money to purchase expensive scones?  _ Hyungwon _ , that’s who.

With a motion of his head, Jooheon pointed over to the path that led to the back of the grounds, where he spent most of his time, where it was quieter, and began guiding Changkyun there. His friend followed without a peep and his head low like an apologetic dog.

He guided Changkyun to the little spot where he usually spent his breaks, behind one of the storage sheds; a couple of worn wooden chairs and a barrel he used as a table were the only manner of furnishing there. He motioned to one of the chairs, and Changkyun promptly took a seat, placing the box of scones on top of the barrel.

“Now,” Jooheon said as he plopped down on a chair in front of Changkyun, “what did you do?”

“I didn’t  _ do _ anything,” Changkyun replied, already getting defensive. “I— You see, I went to see Won this morning and—”

“‘Won’?” Jooheon echoed, thoroughly unimpressed.

Changkyun blushed, apparently noticing he’d called Hyungwon by a nickname. “Hyungwon, I mean. He asked me to go see him, so I did and—”

“Shocking,” Jooheon said bitterly. “He tells you to do something and you do it, that’s incredible news.”

Changkyun exhaled slowly through his nose, a clear attempt to calm himself. Jooheon was pushing his buttons and he was plenty aware of such - good. Changkyun deserved to have his buttons pushed. Somebody had to tell him the truth, how ridiculous his obsession with Hyungwon was, and Jooheon felt compelled to be the one to do it.

“I didn’t come here to hear your pick my relationship with Hyungwon apart,” Changkyun said very slowly, keeping his voice steady. Jooheon stared at him, arms crossed, waiting. “I’m here because— he asked me to go to the mansion this morning because he had something to discuss with me. A business proposal.”

Jooheon frowned, curiosity and suspicion heavy on his shoulders. “What business proposal?”

“I can’t tell you the details, all I can say is that it has to do with his séances.”

“Let me guess,” Jooheon said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You accepted this ‘business proposal’.”

Changkyun licked his lips nervously, wringing his fingers on his lap. “I did, but— that’s not all.” He peered up at Jooheon from under his bangs before quickly looking down again. Jooheon’s unease doubled - it was bad enough for Changkyun not to make eye contact with him. He braced himself. “Along with the business deal he— he invited me to go live with him at the mansion.”

It took a long while for the information to truly hit. Jooheon stared at Changkyun with a blank expression, his brain working through his words as if they had been spoken in a foreign language.

Changkyun was going to— move in with Hyungwon. So that meant Changkyun would move out of their shared apartment. Changkyun would no longer be his roommate. Changkyun was leaving.

Changkyun was leaving.

“Oh,” Jooheon finally said, unable to articulate anything more than that.

“I’ll still help out with rent, though,” Changkyun scrambled to say. “I’ll make good money working with Hyungwon and I’ll share some of it with you, so you don’t have to worry about—”

“It’s fine, Changkyun,” Jooheon interrupted him. Somehow his voice came out low and calm, no matter how he was at the edge of a panic attack. “I understand.”

Changkyun was leaving. Minhyuk was leaving, too.

The two people Jooheon cared about the most were leaving him. He would be left behind, alone, while Changkyun and Minhyuk moved on with their lives and forgot all about him. It was one of his biggest fears, that - being alone. Nobody to turn to, nobody who cared about him, just him in an empty room.

“I’ll come to visit anytime I get a chance, I promise,” Changkyun was saying; the sound barely got through the ringing in his ears.

That was bullcrap. Changkyun said he would visit and, yes, maybe he would, at first. Then his visits would grow more and more apart, more and more scarce, until they stopped completely and Jooheon would be left to lament the loss of his best friend with only his loneliness for company.

Why would Changkyun even  _ think _ about him once he was living the life of a king, surrounded by money and the best foods and the best drinks and velvets and silks with his annoying little boyfriend on his arm?

Changkyun might as well be moving to another country. ‘Visit’, what a joke.

“Are you angry with me?” Changkyun asked when Jooheon took too long to say anything. “I’m sorry, I know this is sudden, if I’d known this would happen I would have talked to you sooner.”

Jooheon slumped back in his chair, head low and eyes glued to the ground. He didn’t even know what to say. How to express what he was feeling. Changkyun had been there since they were kids, he’d known him most of his life. For Changkyun not to be there anymore— it felt like losing a limb. Or, in this case, not losing - having a limb stolen, because that’s what Hyungwon was doing. He was stealing Changkyun away, enticing him with his pretty face and his fortune and his honeyed words, and Changkyun, like an idiot, was falling for it.

Hyungwon might as well be the Pied Piper and Changkyun the stupid rat who’d fallen under the spell of his music, unaware he was being led to his demise.

“Jooheon?” Changkyun called, going as far as to lean forward to place a hand on his knee. “Jooheon, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” he grumbled, then shook Changkyun’s hand away from him. “Is that all?”

“I—”

“You!”

Jooheon didn’t even flinch when Minhyuk’s voice cut through their conversation, didn’t raise his head when he heard his hasty footsteps approaching. Changkyun, on the other hand, winced and covered his ears with his hands.

Minhyuk stopped next to them, hands on his hips. “Tell your little boy-toy that I still have his knock-maker and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“What on earth is a knock-maker?” Changkyun asked, bewildered.

Jooheon wasn’t in the mood for whatever Minhyuk was going off about, but he did raise his eyes to see what he was doing when he noticed his movement. He pulled a small pebble tied on a string from his breast pocket and held it on Changkyun’s face.

“This is a knock-maker! It’s how he makes the noises happen during his séances!”

Changkyun snorted as he took the string, looking at it with nothing but amusement. “Where did you find this?”

“The place he performed his session last night,” Minhyuk said, chest puffed out with pride. “He tried to talk his way out of it, but this is proof he’s a fraud.”

Changkyun cackled. “You do realize he planted this there for you to find on purpose, right?”

Minhyuk’s expression fell. “Pardon?”

“He knew you were there and wanted to keep you busy for a while so he could spend time with me,” Changkyun explained, grinning up at Minhyuk like the smug little shit he was. “He’s not a fraud, just let it go.”

“You—” Minhyuk stammered, face flushed red with embarrassment and anger. “You scared the soul out of me! Hyungwon told me you were the one who banged on the window!”

“Guilty as charged,” Changkyun said, his grin widening. “He praised me for it, in fact.”

“Yes, well, he also called you a thieving rat and said you’re a terrible person,” Minhyuk accused with his own smug grin and Jooheon wanted nothing more than to swallowed by the ground. He didn’t want to be here, hearing those two argue about Hyungwon -  _ again _ .

“He told me that too,” Changkyun said, and now he was smiling as wide as his mouth could stretch, looking more than a little insane. “And he told me you called him an arrogant cunt.”

Minhyuk pressed his lips together and averted Changkyun’s eyes. “I may or may not have called him that, you have no proof.”

“It’s fine if you did, you’re right,” Changkyun said, laughing. “He’s a downright twat.”

“What’s wrong with you two!? Why do you keep speaking ill of each other, aren’t you supposed to be in love?”

“You know how people say love makes you blind?” Changkyun said. “That’s not the case with us.”

Jooheon scoffed and looked away again. Minhyuk’s attention snapped towards him due to that sound; Jooheon could see him smiling from the corner of his eyes.

“Honey, hi!”

Jooheon grunted in reply, not even bothering to articulate any proper words.

“Ooh, ‘honey’,” Changkyun echoed in a teasing manner; it was obvious he was trying to distract Jooheon from the fact he was upset, but it wasn’t going to work, not this time.

“Leave my honey alone, you big bully,” Minhyuk said to Changkyun. “Wait, what’s in that box? Pastries?”

“Scones,” Changkyun informed. “They’re Jooheon’s.”

“Can I have one, honey?” Minhyuk asked him sweetly.

Jooheon saw that as a perfect opportunity to express his feelings to Changkyun and, looking up to stare directly at him as he spoke, he told Minhyuk, “You can have the whole box for all I care.”

Changkyun’s expression turned sad, a silent plea in his eyes. Jooheon held his gaze, unyielding in his anger; he was soft-hearted and forgiving, but Jooheon wasn’t in a forgiving mood at the moment.

Minhyuk noticed the tension between them, looking from Jooheon to Changkyun and back to Jooheon. “What’s wrong?”

Jooheon didn’t make any move to reply, so Changkyun cleared his throat and said, “I’m going to live with Hyungwon at his mansion.”

“Oh,” Minhyuk said, much like Jooheon had once he first heard the news. Minhyuk glanced over at Jooheon, brows knitted together in a frown he couldn’t quite interpret, before he looked at Changkyun again. “When are you moving?”

“Tomorrow,” Changkyun replied. Jooheon looked away; he’d forgotten to ask when it would happen, how long he would have to adjust. Not long at all, apparently. “He’s sending over a carriage to pick me up in the morning, I’ll only take the essentials for now and come back for the rest of my possessions once I’ve settled down there.”

Minhyuk moved closer to Jooheon, only a few inches but enough to make Jooheon feel self-conscious about it. “Don’t you think it’s too soon for that?”

Changkyun rolled his shoulders dismissively. “Maybe it is. Either way, this is none of your business since I am the one in a relationship with Hyungwon, not you.”

“And thank heavens for that, I don’t know how you stand him,” Minhyuk said arrogantly, chin tipped up. “Sounds to me like you’re making a big mistake, but since you’re choosing not to take any advice, do not to come crying to us when it blows up on your face.”

Changkyun scoffed. “Noted.”

“Oh, wait!” Minhyuk exclaimed suddenly. “If you live with him, you’ll find out his every secret! You’ll figure out how he does it!”

Changkyun raised an eyebrow at him. “He does it by not being a fraud.”

“You have to tell me all his secrets, please, I’ll do anything!”

“No!” Changkyun said, sounding almost offended. “I’m not going to sell out my lover just so you can feed your already bloated ego.”

“Like he doesn’t have a bloated ego too—”

“You know what,” Jooheon said, louder than the other two so they would hear him over their petty argument, and got up from his chair, “I have work to do, excuse me.”

He made to start walking, but Changkyun scrambled to stand up and grab his hand before he could go far. “Jooheon, wait—!”

Jooheon pulled his hand free from Changkyun’s grasp easily. “Just go pack your things, I’m sure you’re eager to do so.”

“Jooheon, please, don’t be like that,” Changkyun pleaded. Minhyuk only stared at them, seemingly at a loss. “I didn’t mean to upset you, if I’d known—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Jooheon grumbled and made a dismissive gesture to go with his dismissive words before he began walking again. He wasn’t going to sit there while Changkyun and Minhyuk talked about Hyungwon like he was the most interesting topic in the universe. No, absolutely not. He’d had enough of Hyungwon.

Of course, walking away didn’t mean he was free - seconds after leaving, he heard hurried footsteps chasing him.

“Honey, wait!”

Minhyuk quickly caught up to him, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt to force Jooheon to stop walking. Jooheon groaned and turned around to face Minhyuk.

“What?”

“Are you alright?” Minhyuk asked, and his voice was so earnest it made Jooheon’s heart feel tight. “You look so upset, is there anything I can do?”

Jooheon gave him a hard look. “What do you care?” He jerked his arm away from Minhyuk’s grasp. “You’re leaving too.”

When he walked away this time, Minhyuk didn’t follow.

◦ ◦ ◦

What wouldn’t he do for Hoseok, truly.

Kihyun knew his silent treatment was going to work if they gave it a couple of days, but since Hoseok had asked him to get it done at top haste, he had no choice than to turn to his backup plan: following Hyunwoo.

It wasn’t something he was particularly excited about. Hyunwoo was his best friend and lover, and going behind his back like that to snoop into his personal dealings felt wrong. It  _ was _ wrong. He would much rather learn everything from Hyunwoo himself - but that wasn’t going to happen and Hoseok was in a hurry, so snooping it would have to be.

He dressed himself all in black, which would help him avoid detection if he stuck to the shadows, including a flat cap he could tip over his eyes and a scarf he could wrap around his mouth and nose in case he needed it - ‘ _ what are you, a cat burglar?’ _ Hoseok had asked when he went to kiss him goodbye before leaving, laughing that cute laugh of his, the one that made his nose scrunch up.

That’s what he was doing this for.

Whatever Hyunwoo was doing, he would have to do it once his shift at the docks was over; that was Kihyun’s first destination, and how great it was to now have an apartment that was about five minutes away from where Hyunwoo worked. The stars might as well have aligned just to permit them that comfort.

It wasn’t hard to spot Hyunwoo once he reached the area he was usually at; he’d always had a shining presence, a way to catch the eye of people just by being there. Another thing that worked in Kihyun’s favor, at the moment. Hyunwoo’s job at the docks consisted mostly of grunt work - loading and unloading product from ships, carrying heavy crates and sacks to their respective warehouses. It was a job that could very well explain his injuries, the pain in his shoulder and the deplorable state of his hands, but Kihyun knew Hyunwoo too well. He could easily tell when he lied, and he was most definitely lying.

Kihyun was absolutely certain Hyunwoo didn’t work at the market square. For starters, why would he need to work at the market at _ night _ , when most businesses were closed? He might have taken one odd job or two there, but not at night.

Every possible explanation had popped into Kihyun’s head, and the one his mind fixated on, for the most part, was the theory that Hyunwoo had gotten involved with a gang. What else could it be? The amount of money he’d been bringing home and his injuries could be explained by Hyunwoo working for one of the many gangs operating along the river, the ones that beat up business owners and shook down prostitutes for bribe money. Kihyun didn’t want to believe Hyunwoo could do something like that, but it was within the realm of possibility.

He hoped it wasn’t that. They might work with contraband and other illegal dealings for a living, but they didn’t hurt others, didn’t take from those who struggled just as much as they did. He was upset with Hyunwoo for keeping secrets, would likely be angry with him no matter what he was hiding, but he didn’t want to be disappointed in his character. That was the only fear he had - to be disappointed in Hyunwoo.

Kihyun blended easily into the large crowd that often populated the docks, buying himself a newspaper from a nearby stand to use as yet another prop to remain hidden. After that, he tucked himself into an out-of-the-way corner, next to an alleyway, and watched.

There was not much to see, at first; he’d arrived early enough that it was almost an hour before Hyunwoo clocked out. It was boring to just stand there and do nothing. At least he had the newspaper to keep himself entertained - not that catching up with the current events around the country made him feel any less gloomy, but at least it was  _ something _ .

It was a relief when Hyunwoo finally began making his preparations to leave, even though that relief was riddled with anxiety - if Hyunwoo discovered him, it would only lead to more fighting no matter what was the secret he’d been keeping. Of course, Kihyun was beyond feeling apologetic about following him; in his mind, Hyunwoo was the one who forced his hand by insisting on lying even when standing before him, face to face, eye to eye. Anything Kihyun did after that to put an end to it was justifiable. Hyunwoo had his chance and he’d chosen not to take it.

He waited for Hyunwoo to make his exit from the docks and turn a corner before he gave chase, fast enough not to lose sight of him but not so much that Hyunwoo would notice he was being followed. That was perhaps the most taxing part of it all - balancing being close enough to see but far enough not to be seen. Good thing he was only planning to do it once.

That was difficult to accomplish during the first few minutes of his chase, too many people around posing as obstacles, making it hard to keep up, hard to keep his sights on Hyunwoo. It was one of those moments when Kihyun wished he was taller and able to see above the crowd.

Hyunwoo, luckily for him, made his way towards an emptier area of the city, one Kihyun couldn’t recall ever stepping in. It was a secluded neighborhood, dark and unkempt, and while it wasn’t that far away from their new home, from the docks where they spent so much time in, Kihyun never knew such a place existed. It gave him a feeling of danger, and to think Hyunwoo frequented a place like that did nothing to ease his concern.

That gang theory of his felt like a confirmed fact at that point. Who else would dwell there if not for criminals?

He hid behind a wall when Hyunwoo stopped in front of a nondescript building and greeted a group of men who were standing about. Kihyun held his breath; were they members of the gang? They didn’t appear to be armed, but Kihyun was aware that there are plenty of ways to conceal weapons. The way they dressed didn’t appear very ‘gang-like’ either, but looks can be deceiving.

The strange men greeted Hyunwoo with enthusiasm, shaking his hand and giving him friendly pats on the back, while Hyunwoo smiled at them as he said a few words before continuing on his way. Kihyun wished he could get closer to be able to hear what they were saying, but there was nowhere for him to hide. He watched Hyunwoo enter an alleyway, and Kihyun presumed he was headed towards that building’s back door. As naturally as he could, he left his hiding place and made his way over to the place where Hyunwoo had disappeared into. The group of men didn’t pay him much attention beyond a few fleeting glances, which Kihyun counted as a blessing; if they were truly part of a gang, it was best they didn’t focus too much on him.

It wasn’t long before Kihyun found the door which Hyunwoo had used, no other way he could have gone - that alley was a dead end and Hyunwoo had vanished, so the door was the logical conclusion. There was a small crowd there, several men going inside, and Kihyun climbed down the short flight of stairs to reach that hidden entrance, slipping in amongst the group of people pushing their way inside, and promptly winced at the smell that greeted him - dust, and mildew, and sweat, old rotting wood and sawdust, a pungent cocktail of scents that nearly made Kihyun vomit. Somehow, he managed to keep his dinner in his stomach where it belonged - but barely.

He followed the crowd, looking around wildly in search of Hyunwoo, but he must have already gone deeper inside the place, for he was nowhere to be found. Kihyun could spot smaller groups of men conversing in loud voices, laughing, but the number of people talking at the same time at full volume made it impossible to discern any specific conversation. His theory about Hyunwoo being in a gang faltered; were this a gang hang out, he wouldn’t have been able to enter so easily, and he would have found considerably less enthusiasm inside.

Unless the gang was celebrating something. What would a gang even celebrate, though? A successful hit? The death of a rival? Achieving the bribe money quota for the month? He had no idea.

Finding Hyunwoo felt more pressing than listening in on strangers’ conversations, so Kihyun continued on. He walked by a desk where a man seemed to be taking notes and money for something - admission? - so Kihyun avoided that place entirely in fear of being thrown out for lack of money and mixed in with a crowd going through the door on the far side of the small room. The smell that permeated the place got much stronger there, and Kihyun held his breath for a moment to get his bearings and be better prepared the next time he inhaled that scent. It didn’t make it any easier, but at least he managed not to gag.

He looked around to find he’d stepped into what appeared to be an old warehouse, the lights there dim and barely enough to illuminate the whole room. The place was filled to the brim with people, men and women of different social standing mingling together and talking as loudly and boisterously as the people in the previous room were. He would never find Hyunwoo there in such conditions, in a crowd and in the dark.

He pushed through the crowd, deciding it would be best if he searched around the room closer to the walls first and worked his way to the center, but soon enough he spotted a set of stairs that led up to a mezzanine. He grimaced upon looking up and finding that the mezzanine too was full of people, not to mention how incredibly precarious it appeared to be, as if it would crumble at any moment. He didn’t have much choice, though - viewing the room from above would make his task faster and easier, so he swallowed his hesitation and made his way up.

It took some effort due to the number of bodies obstructing his way but, eventually, Kihyun reached the mezzanine and pushed his way to the railings so he could see the ground floor. His stomach churned unpleasantly when his eyes fell on something he hadn’t been able to see before - at the very center of the room was a makeshift square, its walls a few stacks of hay. A fighting pit.

It made sense now. The man he saw at the desk previously had been taking bets, not charging admission. Was Hyunwoo betting on fights? If he was, Kihyun would have his head because how dare he spend the money they worked so hard for on such a deplorable thing?

Then came the realization that, no, Hyunwoo couldn’t have been betting. It would take a miracle or a string of rigged matches for him to have been able to win so much money. No.

Hyunwoo had been fighting in that pit. It was the only explanation. The money, the injuries, insisting on not telling him the truth. Of course he wouldn’t have told him, Hyunwoo must have known both Kihyun himself and Hoseok would be against it and try to convince him to stop if he said anything.

Kihyun felt dizzy, the new knowledge combining with the stifling air, the noisy crowd all around him, the smell. He desperately wished he could leave and go home, get some fresh air, have a moment of quiet to sort through the mess of thoughts in his head. He couldn’t, though - he had to stay, had to confirm his suspicions were right, if not for himself, then for Hoseok. Hoseok, who was home fighting his illness all on his own just so Kihyun could be there, at that awful place, to give him the peace of mind he’d requested.

For Hoseok, Kihyun scraped the very bottom of his reserves of emotional strength and powered through that overwhelming wish to be anywhere else. He had to see it through.

After only a couple of minutes, a short, burly man with a thick mustache stepped inside the square, and the crowd began to cheer so loudly Kihyun’s ears started ringing. The man’s voice was clear and carried well to where Kihyun was standing, so he had no problem hearing his announcements regarding the upcoming matches - and he definitely heard him mention a tournament. A tournament. It explained the money, if Hyunwoo was one of the contestants. He didn’t know much about underground bare-knuckle boxing tournaments, but he doubted Hyunwoo would have been able to bring that amount of money home if there wasn’t a competition behind it, a prize.

Of course, to earn the money, Hyunwoo must have won a few fights. A part of Kihyun was proud of him, but that part was easily overpowered by the part of him that was outraged. Maybe someday he would find it in him to allow himself to only be proud of Hyunwoo for it. Not that night, though. Not any time soon.

The referee announced the first match, no name Kihyun could recognize, and he decided he didn’t want to see it. He kept his gaze down, watching his own hands as they gripped the rusty metal of the railings, doing his best not to look at what was happening in the ring. He could still hear it, however - mixed in with the crowd cheering and shouting at the fighters, Kihyun could hear grunting, the distinct sound of knuckles hitting skin, breaking bone. And Hyunwoo was part of it. Part of that violence.

That match lasted a few minutes, and Kihyun thought that was a very long time for a fight to last. Did Hyunwoo fight for that long too? He hoped he didn’t, and he hoped he didn’t have to stand there and see Hyunwoo exchanging punches with a stranger for that long. He would, though. If that’s what it took to get to the bottom of what was going on with his love, then Kihyun would do it.

The next fight was shorter, almost comically quick - Kihyun had chanced a peek over at the ring and wasn’t sure if he should laugh or feel bad. One of the men fighting was a tiny, skinny little thing, and his opponent was a huge, muscular monster of a man. One punch, two punches, and the skinny guy was out like a candle in the rain.

He hoped he wasn’t badly injured, though. He looked like he banged his head pretty hard on the floor when he fell. If that had been Hyunwoo, Kihyun would have hopped off that mezzanine in a second to be at his side, make sure he was alright. He was angry with him, yes, but he loved him more than life.

Maybe that’s the feeling he should hold on to - he loved him. No matter what, he loved Hyunwoo, and they would be alright. They could figure it out, just like they figured out everything life would throw their way.

Everything would be alright.

It was only a couple of fights later that Kihyun finally found Hyunwoo, entering the ring much like he’d feared. Hyunwoo had stripped off his shirt and was standing there in his trousers and suspenders, upper body bare to expose his defined muscles, and maybe if that was any other time, any other situation, Kihyun would take a moment to appreciate the sight. Maybe he would be proud to hear all the women there swooning over Hyunwoo and think to himself ‘yes, he is gorgeous and he is mine’. Maybe he would be cheering him on.

But he was standing there, frozen and silent, ears ringing and thoughts muddled. He felt detached as if he was watching everything happen with eyes that weren’t his own, as if this was all a dream and he wasn’t truly there. He heard the referee announce the match. He heard the word ‘semi-finals’. Again, he felt as if he should be proud of Hyunwoo, but he couldn’t feel anything. He was numb, as if his very soul had been wrapped in several layers of thick blankets.

The referee then began repeating the rules - _ you may only use your fists, you may only strike your opponent above the waist, if either of you fall down the round will be over and you have thirty seconds to get up or the match will be forfeit _ \- and Kihyun heard him but the words were all jumbled to his ears. He watched Hyunwoo shake hands with his opponent, a man of similar height but of a slimmer build.

They stepped back, away from each other, and after a few seconds, the fight started.

All his senses came rushing back to him at once and he heard, loud and clear, when Hyunwoo landed the first punch on his opponent. He wanted to look away, but it was like witnessing an accident - he couldn’t turn his eyes from the scene unfolding before him no matter how gruesome. He’d never seen Hyunwoo looking so angry, each punch delivered with fury and precision, and he was fast, faster than the other man. Hyunwoo’s eyes were dark with bloodlust, adrenaline, and God knows what else, but it frightened Kihyun to the core.

Hyunwoo had always been so— calm. Being around him always made Kihyun feel at ease, peaceful, and yet there he was, watching as Hyunwoo delivered blow after powerful blow to his opponent’s face, his ribs, his stomach, with a fury of the likes Kihyun had never seen. 

He wanted to look away. He wanted to look away so bad.

The man tried to land a hit to Hyunwoo’s side but Hyunwoo quickly sidestepped, the movement causing him to turn around on the ring in a way that put Kihyun in his direct line of sight.

If that was any other situation, it would be romantic. Worthy of a book. Two lovers’ gazes meeting across a crowd, as if the universe itself had directed their eyes.

There was nothing romantic about that moment.

Hyunwoo’s eyes went wide and the color drained from his face, realization hitting him about the same time his opponent, taking advantage of his moment of distraction, punched him in the face once, then twice. That snapped Hyunwoo back to the moment, and Hyunwoo had always been a pragmatic man.

He blocked the next blow with ease and with a single punch to the very middle of the man’s face, Hyunwoo ended the fight.

And Kihyun had seen enough.

He didn’t stay to hear Hyunwoo being announced the winner, didn’t pay any mind to the crowd cheering him on. He simply pushed his way back to the stairs, back to the ground floor, and out the door, out of that place, unable to stay there a second longer. 

The fresh air was a relief to his senses, but not his emotions. He didn’t know how to feel. Should he be angry at Hyunwoo? Upset? Should he be proud of his victory? Should he be sad? Concerned?

He was all of those things and it was too much. How he hadn’t exploded with all those feelings yet was a miracle.

There were a few men loitering about just outside the warehouse, so Kihyun quickly made his way out of the alley, back the way he came. The streets were deserted now, everyone who’d been there earlier gone, either to their homes or to watch the fights, so Kihyun allowed himself to stop at the same place he used as a hiding spot when he followed Hyunwoo there and leaned against the wall.

What would he tell Hoseok when he got home? He thought he would come back with good news, or at least news that wouldn’t worry him so much; Hoseok was so weak after his latest fever, he didn’t need to be concerned over Hyunwoo practicing an illegal sport. He could lie, tell Hoseok he learned nothing useful, that Hyunwoo really was working at the market and that whatever he’d been hiding continued to elude him, but— how could he look at Hoseok in the eyes and lie after everything he’d witnessed at that warehouse?

Hyunwoo— it was like he was taking out all his frustration, all his anger, on his opponent. He was always so composed, always the one either Kihyun or Hoseok turned to when they were angry themselves because Hyunwoo was always a source of comfort. He rarely got mad, he rarely lashed out, and even when they fought Hyunwoo never lost his composure.

Was that how he coped with his feelings? By beating people up to entertain a crowd of strangers?

He didn’t have enough time to reach a conclusion, because soon he heard hurried footsteps coming his way.

“Kihyun!” Hyunwoo called him, and Kihyun instinctively started walking again. He couldn’t do it, not yet— “Ki, wait!”

“What the hell are you thinking!?” Kihyun demanded as he whirled around to face Hyunwoo. For all that he needed time to process everything, he needed to let some of it out. “You could die doing this! You could be injured for life!”

Hyunwoo shook his head and approached to grab Kihyun by the shoulders. His knuckles had new wounds overlapping the old ones; Kihyun made an effort not to look at them, to keep his gaze ahead, but even that was hard to do when Hyunwoo had an ugly cut on his brow and the side of his lower lip was starting to swell.

“Let me explain,” he pleaded. Kihyun simply waited, doing his best not to start crying. “I know— I know that this is dangerous, but— Ki, I’m  _ good _ . I’m good at this, I never lost a fight!”

“What does it matter if you never lost a fight?” Kihyun asked, voice breaking at points. “You’re hurting yourself, you’re hurting others, you—”

“It’s a sport!”

“It’s barbaric!”

Hyunwoo scoffed and shook his head, stepping away from Kihyun. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“Understand? What is there to understand?” Kihyun said, conflicted with exasperation, and frustration, and anger, and hurt. “What would have happened if you had gotten a serious injury while doing it? That’s how you wanted me and Hoseok to find out? Have you thought about that? Have you thought about us at all?”

Hyunwoo’s face became harsh. “Never—  _ never _ accuse me of not thinking of you and Hoseok.” His voice was steady even if a bit raspy. Kihyun could see small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Everything I do,  _ everything _ is for the two of you.”

“Even this?” Kihyun said, motioned towards the warehouse. “All of this for what, the money?”

“It’s not just about the money, but yes, the money is a big reason!” Hyunwoo said. He hardly ever raised his voice, yet there he was, an inch from downright shouting. “How do you think we’ll afford that big house in the countryside you want without the money I win here? Or Hoseok’s medicine?”

“Are you seriously blaming this on me wanting a better life for us?” Kihyun asked, quickly wiping away the single tear that thwarted his iron will not to cry with the back of his hand. “While I’m home taking care of Hoseok, you’re here throwing your fists around and blaming me for it?”

Hyunwoo looked away at the ground, his anger bleeding out of him some. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I’m doing the best I can, and this is what I’m best at,” Hyunwoo murmured. “It’s fast money, it’s good money, and I’m  _ good _ .”

“How can you justify this?” Kihyun asked, voice just as low as Hyunwoo’s. “I watched you get hurt and bleed in that ring, I watched a stranger hurt you, and I watched you hurt him back. How is that in any way alright, Woo?”

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” Hyunwoo said, a little louder this time. “You don’t get it! You walk around as if you’re the only one capable of doing anything to help, the only one smart enough, the only one strong enough, but I’m just as capable as you! Just because my methods differ from yours, it doesn’t make them any less important.”

“That might be so, but at least I’m not going behind my loved ones’ backs trying to get myself killed!”

“I’m not going to get myself killed!” Hyunwoo shot back. “By God, you are such a hypocrite, Kihyun.”

“Excuse me!?” Kihyun exclaimed. “I’m trying to take care of you!”

“So am I! You say I’m working myself to the bone, but so are you! You’re just as burnt out as I am and yet you still have the gall to try and tell me what to do!”

“Because look at what you’re doing!” Kihyun said. “There’s a reason why this ‘sport’ is now illegal, Hyunwoo!”

Hyunwoo rolled his eyes. “Who are you to talk about what’s legal or not? We’re smugglers. We work with contraband. That’s illegal too and I don’t see you preaching about it.”

Kihyun pursed his lips; maybe Hyunwoo had a point when he called him a hypocrite but— no, it wasn’t the same thing. Bare-knuckle boxing was a dangerous sport and was made illegal because people had died doing it, because it was uncivilized and brutal. Contraband was only illegal because it took away tax money from the government - it was illegal, sure, but Kihyun liked to think it made a nice statement, that statement being ‘screw the government’.

Illegality aside, there was absolutely nothing similar between contraband and bare-knuckle boxing.

Kihyun took a deep breath and decided it was time to end that ridiculous discussion.

“Do you know why I followed you tonight?” Kihyun asked, his voice now level even if somewhat frail. “Hoseok asked me to put an end to our fighting. He wanted us to be on good terms as fast as possible because he feels like he doesn’t have much time left.”

Hyunwoo closed his eyes tight, hands balled into fists. Kihyun wished he didn’t have to use that card, wished he could have handled it without needing to remind them both that Hoseok’s condition had worsened. Hyunwoo was quiet for a long moment, the only sound between them being Kihyun’s heavy, shaky breathing.

Without looking up, without moving from his defeated stance, Hyunwoo murmured, “He’s not the only one running out of time.”

Kihyun heard those words as if he’d shouted right into his ear, felt them like a punch to the face. His immediate reaction was to shake his head to deny them, even as Hyungwon’s prediction echoed in the back of his mind.

“Hyunwoo, don’t—”

“I have something to tell you,” he continued, despite Kihyun’s pleas for him not to. “I have it.”

“No, you don’t.” Kihyun immediately rejected those words. “You don’t, you’re lying.”

Hyunwoo’s hands were shaking. “It’s true.” Kihyun covered his mouth to contain a pathetic whimper, the sound coming out muffled. “I have it.”

“How long?” Kihyun asked and sniffed, unable to keep his tears contained any longer.

“I found out a couple of months before you came back.”

Kihyun closed his eyes and lowered his head, both hands covering his mouth to contain any sounds of despair that threatened to come out. He wanted to scream, wanted to drop to the ground and sob, he wanted to curse at the sky as if it would make any difference.

It wouldn’t. Nothing would.

He shook his head again, the motion manic. “No,” he said from behind his hands, “no, you’re fine, you don’t have any symptoms you—”

“I’ve been hiding them,” Hyunwoo said. Kihyun’s knees felt as if they would give out at any second. “It was easier when it was just Hoseok, but— I’ve been working harder on not showing how sick I am since you’ve been back. I’ve been eating more than I need to keep my weight stable, I stay at the ship when it gets bad and say I had to work.”

“That night you came home and Hoseok and I were in the living room—”

“Yes,” Hyunwoo interrupted. “I had a small fever.”

“So it wasn’t just the fighting you were hiding that night, then,” Kihyun concluded, furiously wiping at his eyes. He didn’t want to cry, not in public, not in front of Hyunwoo.

Hyunwoo shook his head to confirm. “No. I had a fight earlier that night. I won even with a fever.”

Kihyun turned away from Hyunwoo, unable to face him. It was all coming together and the picture it was painting was grim. “You wanted us to get that apartment uptown despite the price because you knew I’d be the only one left. Because the savings would be meaningless once I had no reason to want our own house.”

“Ki, it’s not like that,” Hyunwoo said, and Kihyun felt him place a hand on his shoulder. He jerked away from his touch. “Ki, please, I—”

“Don’t, I— I can’t, I can’t do this right now, I need— I have to go,” Kihyun said, deciding he’d had enough, and hurried away, away from Hyunwoo.

Ignorance really is bliss, he bitterly thought to himself. He’d been better off not knowing. He should have let Hyunwoo keep his secrets, because Kihyun’s back was not strong enough to carry that added weight. He was going to break. He could feel himself breaking already.

He hoped Hoseok was asleep when he got home. Kihyun had no idea how he would be able to keep a strong face for him that night. Or ever again.

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah... i said this was meant to be a break from the sadness but it was a pretty sad chapter, huh. the irony is not lost on me.
> 
> anyway. those of you who follow me on twitter probably saw my tweet about this, but most of you don't follow me there so i'll say it here: regardless of his decision, i will not drop this story and i will not exclude wonho from this or any other of my future works, if there are any. monsta x has seven members to me, and that won't change. whatever happens, if he decides to leave or if he comes back, i will support and respect his decision because, at the end of the day, his happiness and well being are the most important.  
please continue to support wonho and monsta x, no matter the outcome.
> 
> i know this might sound a little dissonant with the general mood, but happy halloween! treat yourself today. watch your favorite horror movie and eat lots of candy. dress your pets in silly costumes and take pictures of them. whatever it is that makes you happy or a little less sad today, do it.
> 
> as always, thanks for reading!♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ghostlike91) | [tumblr](https://ghostlike91.tumblr.com/) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ghostlike)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for... uh... idk, guhn being a dickhole?  
also some spooks. very mild.
> 
> enjoy!♡

◦

To watch Hyungwon order a pair of servants to take his luggage from the carriage to the mansion was a surreal experience. Changkyun made sure to stick close to him, feeling awkward and out of place, unsure of where to even look; so far, Hyungwon had kindly taken the lead and was giving Changkyun a chance to get his bearings, keeping to his side as he gave the orders and made a few introductions whenever a servant Changkyun hadn’t met yet appeared.

He was having trouble keeping up with all the names. Maybe he should make a list.

It all happened very fast from there, Changkyun barely able to keep up as Hyungwon finished giving his orders and guided him inside through the grand main entrance - the first time Changkyun would be stepping into the mansion as his home. His new home.

To say he was overwhelmed would be a gross understatement.

But Hyungwon was there, his presence calm and soothing as always, his hand on his shoulder putting him at ease. It would be fine. Hyungwon was there and he would take care of him, teach him everything he needed to know about that new world he was walking into, keep him from any harm. As long as Hyungwon was there, Changkyun knew he would be alright.

“How are you feeling?” Hyungwon asked as they crossed the foyer.

“Glaringly out of my element.”

Hyungwon gave him a smile and squeezed his shoulder gently. “You’ll get used to it in no time. The first few days will be strange, but you’ll be surprised how quickly one can adjust to luxury.”

“I believe you,” he murmured. “I feel very underdressed, though.”

“I’ve already scheduled an appointment later today with a tailor to make you new clothes,” Hyungwon said nonchalantly. Changkyun gaped at him.

“You what?”

“If you are going to pose as my assistant, you have to look the part, darling,” Hyungwon said, bland as if he was talking about the weather and not about spending a considerable amount of money on new clothes for Changkyun.

“But—”

“You don’t have to throw your old clothes away,” Hyungwon interrupted him. “You can dress however you like. You do have to present yourself a certain way in public, though, something you can think of as a mask or a costume to blend in with your surroundings.”

“I see,” Changkyun said. It did make sense - he would be living rich, he might as well  _ look _ rich. And, truth be told, he would be delighted to own nice clothes for a change. Still, he felt a little bad that Hyungwon was going as far as buying him new clothes on top of everything else he’s done for him ever since the first time they met.

Hyungwon stopped walking then, only so he could turn around to face him. “I don’t want to change you,” he said. “I just don’t want you to have a hard time. I know I’m plucking you from the life you’ve always known and tossing you into a much different situation, but I promise to try my best to help you acclimate at your own pace. If anything makes you uncomfortable or overwhelmed, tell me and I’ll adjust accordingly.”

The part of Changkyun that had been quietly panicking calmed down some, and he gave Hyungwon a small smile. “Thank you. Not just for this, but everything else as well. You do so much for me.”

Hyungwon ducked his head bashfully, his cheeks pinkening. Adorable. “I— you’re welcome.” He cleared his throat then, trying to get past his embarrassment, and said, “I suppose we should get the most unpleasant part of the day over with.”

Changkyun frowned. “Which is…?”

“Introducing you to Guhn.”

Oh. That did sound unpleasant. “Alright… How will that go?”

“I’ll handle everything,” Hyungwon said as he began walking again. He was guiding him to one of the reading rooms on the ground floor, Changkyun noticed. “Try not to antagonize him too much from the get-go. I know you’ll try to defend me if he gets angry, but you need to remain calm - you’re blameless in this, as I’m the one ‘hiring you’ without his previous knowledge.”

“I make no promises,” Changkyun said between his teeth.

“Do your very best, then.”

Changkyun wanted to protest and insist he would make no effort to be nice, but before he could Hyungwon had already stopped in front of the door that led to one of the small libraries and knocked three times. The permission to enter came in less than a second and, after giving Changkyun one last look, Hyungwon opened the door and entered the room. Changkyun quietly followed.

Guhn was reclining on a burgundy chaise, a book in his gloved hands, and a mildly inconvenienced expression on his face. He looked at Hyungwon for a moment, but his eyes quickly moved to stare at Changkyun instead. Changkyun held his gaze despite how uncomfortable it made him.

“What is the issue now?” Guhn asked, although his eyes remained focused on Changkyun.

“Why must there be an issue?” Hyungwon shot back. Guhn finally turned his attention to Hyungwon.

“You only seek me out to complain about something. Pardon me if my assumption missed its mark.”

“It missed the mark by a mile,” Hyungwon said, and placed a hand on Changkyun’s shoulder again. “I came to introduce you to my new personal assistant.”

Guhn’s dark eyes narrowed and he moved his gaze back to Changkyun, more analytical this time. “Personal assistant?” He glanced over at Hyungwon, eyes like daggers as if he could see his very soul, before he locked his sights on Changkyun once more. “You haven’t mentioned you were seeking to hire one.”

“I don’t see a reason why I should have, seeing that he will be working for myself and myself only,” Hyungwon said. Changkyun almost snickered; what a roundabout way to say ‘none of your business’. “You will be seeing him regularly from now on, so I thought it would be good to get the introductions out of the way.”

Guhn didn’t look happy at all, but still he gave them a close-lipped smile. “I see.”

“This is Changkyun,” Hyungwon said, gesturing towards him with his free hand.

Guhn blinked a couple of times and said in a fake-polite tone, “Excuse me? That’s quite the mouthful of a name, how do you pronounce it again?”

“You can call me Daniel,” Changkyun said. Hyungwon gave him a curious sideways glance but said nothing. “You are not the first one to find it difficult to pronounce my birth name.”

“Ah, yes, Daniel is much easier, thank you,” Guhn said with a disdainful sniff. Changkyun wanted to kick him. “Hyungwon never graced me with a simpler alternative, I had to learn how to pronounce his name or I would never be able to call upon him at all.”

Hyungwon exhaled audibly through his nose, sounding exasperated enough for both of them. “As you should. It  _ is _ my name.”

Guhn ignored his comment in favor of continuing to question Changkyun. “And what of your family name?”

“Im.”

“Figures. Hyungwon has a knack for finding those of same descent as his,” Guhn commented. “Were you born in the far east like he was?”

“My parents were,” Changkyun replied. “I was born and raised here.”

Guhn hummed, looking at Changkyun up and down as if trying to read every information he possibly could out of him. “How did you and Hyungwon meet?”

“Accidentally,” Hyungwon said, quick and simple, giving no more explanation.

The answer didn’t please Guhn, considering how his eyes narrowed dangerously when he glared at Hyungwon. “How very vague, dear. It almost sounds as if you’ve been keeping Daniel here a secret from me for a while now.”

“And if I have?” Hyungwon said, sounding defiant. Guhn scoffed and rolled his eyes. Changkyun felt as if he’d missed something.

“You say he’s your personal assistant, I assume you plan on paying for his services with your own money,” Guhn said, not lingering on whatever unspoken issue there was in their previous exchange. “According to our contract, your personal expenses are to be paid for with your earnings and not mine.”

“I know what the contract says,  _ dear _ , I wrote it,” Hyungwon threw back. “Rest assured I am breaking none of the terms we agreed upon. Changkyun is my responsibility and I’ll see to his every need personally; as such, I do request that you refrain from calling upon him for anything. He has no obligation to obey your orders and, in fact, I would prefer he didn’t answer to you at all.”

Guhn laughed in response to that. It was a sharp sound. Changkyun decided he didn’t like it. “Goodness, why would I order your assistant around when I have my own valet?”

“I simply wish to make it clear.”

“As you say,” Guhn said dismissively. “What of his accommodations? I don’t believe there is room left in the servants’ wing.”

“He won’t be staying in the servants’ wing. I’m having the room adjacent to mine prepared for him.”

Changkyun looked up at Hyungwon with mild surprise. He knew he would be getting a room, but he’d completely forgotten about Hyungwon’s extra bedroom. He tried not to look too happy about it, at least not while he was in Guhn’s presence.

“That empty old room?” Guhn said, and now his voice turned concerned - a fake kind of concern, of course. “That just won’t do, to clean that room and furnish it in one day is not feasible.” He sighed as if coming to a conclusion. “I’ll have one of the guest rooms prepared for him instead.”

“That is really not necessary, I—”

“I  _ insist _ ,” Guhn said emphatically.

Hyungwon pursed his lips before smiling a tight-lipped smile. “Very well. I suppose he will be more comfortable in a guest room for the night, while his room is not ready.”

“Perfect,” Guhn said and grinned at Hyungwon, like he’d just won a battle. Changkyun was again at a loss as to what was going on.

“We’ll be on our way, then. I have much to talk to Changkyun about,” Hyungwon said as he began guiding him out of the room.

“I’m sure you do,” Guhn replied. “A pleasure meeting you, Daniel.”

“You too, Mr. Guhn,” Changkyun said, his words clipped and a fake smile on his face, one he didn’t even bother trying to make more convincing.

Hyungwon closed the door behind them and grabbed Changkyun’s hand, guiding him back to the foyer. It was only when they were at a relatively safe distance from the library that Hyungwon spoke again.

“Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“What was that about?” Changkyun asked.

“About your room?” Hyungwon said, and Changkyun nodded to confirm. “It was a test. I’m afraid I’ve failed in concealing the true nature of our relationship, and now Guhn will very likely try to use it against me.”

Changkyun lowered his head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Kyun,” Hyungwon said gently. “Guhn is very observant when he wants to be. He will probably choose the room furthest away from mine for you to stay tonight. I suspect he wants to know how I will react to that.”

“How  _ will _ you react to that?”

Hyungwon shot Changkyun a sideways glance and a smile as they began to ascend the main staircase. “If you think I will act as if his assumption of us being lovers is incorrect, you are wrong. He can’t do anything about it, so if he wants to test out his theory, I will gladly confirm it.”

“Is it always like this between you?” Changkyun asked once they reached the second landing and began ascending the stairs to the third floor. “Mind games and tricks?”

“Yes. I don’t trust him, he doesn’t trust me, and we are both aware of such.”

“Doesn’t it get tiring having to live with someone you dislike so much?”

“Some days are harder than others,” Hyungwon said after thinking for a moment. “I believe it’ll get much easier for me now that you’re here. Can’t say the same will be true for Guhn.”

Changkyun snorted. “If it’s up to me, I’ll make his life a living hell.”

Hyungwon giggled and placed a kiss on the back of Changkyun’s hand. “This is exactly why I love you.”

“And here I thought it was because of my quick wit and handsome countenance.”

“Those are certainly added benefits,” Hyungwon said jokingly and gave Changkyun’s hand a soft tug. “Don’t worry about Guhn, hm? He will bark but he won’t bite - he knows there will be consequences if he does.”

Changkyun raised an eyebrow at Hyungwon, becoming more and more curious. “I assume you have some leverage against him to be so confident?”

Hyungwon smirked at him just as he opened the door to his study for Changkyun to pass through. “I  _ am _ the leverage.”

Changkyun gave him Hyungwon a dubious look but decided not to ask what that meant - both because he knew, as usual, that Hyungwon wouldn’t elaborate and because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He was already overwhelmed enough for that entire day and it was still mid-morning.

He quietly entered the study, wandering aimlessly around while Hyungwon closed and locked the door behind them. His feet took him to the cabinet where Hyungwon kept all his medicine, and he stood there examining the contents of the many glass jars there. Some contained herbs, others contained dark-colored liquids he didn’t have the first clue how to identify.

“Are all of these for your headaches?” he asked.

“Most of them,” Hyungwon replied. “Not all. In fact, I advise you not to play with those - some of them can be harmful if handled incorrectly.”

“Duly noted,” Changkyun said and stepped away from the cabinet, almost as if just being close to it was toxic somehow. He turned his focus to Hyungwon’s desk instead, eyes falling on the journal he’d seen during his first visit to that room. It felt like an eternity ago. “And what is this, if I may ask?” Changkyun rested his fingertips over the black leather-bound journal. “Your diary?”

Hyungwon stopped right behind him, close enough that their bodies brushed when they breathed. “Not exactly. I don’t write of daily events in it, if that’s what you meant.”

“What  _ do _ you write here?” Changkyun asked, leaning back just enough to press himself against Hyungwon’s chest. Hyungwon welcomed him easily, his hands coming to rest on his hips. “All your secrets?”

Hyungwon chuckled, warm breath hitting the back of his neck, making him shiver. “Secrets?” He hooked his chin over Changkyun’s shoulder. “That is correct, in the way that I’ve never shown the contents of this journal to anyone. But no, I don’t write secrets in there.” Hyungwon turned his face the slightest bit, just enough to nose at the side Changkyun’s neck. “I write poetry.”

“Poetry?” Changkyun echoed the word, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. “The more I learn about you, the more endearing you become to me.”

“Are you making fun of me?” Hyungwon asked without any malice in his voice; Changkyun could feel his smile against the crook of his neck. “You think it’s cute that my head is full of fluff?”

“It’s lovable just like every other part of you,” Changkyun replied and punctuated the sentence by pressing a brief kiss to the side of Hyungwon’s head. “Can I read some of your poems?”

He hesitated, something rather unusual coming from Hyungwon, who was always so very sure of himself. “Only if you promise not to laugh - they are not very good.”

“I’m sure you write beautifully.”

Hyungwon gave him an unsure glance and stepped away; he didn’t go very far, still close enough to reach. “If you wish to read them, do it some time I’m not standing next to you. You’ll be the first to read the contents of that journal and doing so in my presence will only serve to leave me mortified, so—”

“Oh, what’s this?” Changkyun teased. “Have I found your weakness?”

“A tender spot, perhaps,” Hyungwon conceded with ease. “My real weakness is a little taller than a journal full of poems. Thinks he’s very clever, too.”

Changkyun tried to hide how warm he became upon hearing those words with the most unattractive snort he could act out. “Now you’re just saying that to fluster me.”

“Well, you’re flustered,” Hyungwon shot back, “so if that was my intention then I’ve been most successful.”

Changkyun stuck out his tongue at Hyungwon, a veritable display of maturity, before returning to the previous topic with a newfound intention of flustering Hyungwon back. “So you sit here in front of your garden-view window writing poems while admiring yourself in the mirror?”

That earned him a full-blown laugh from Hyungwon, his entire body shaking with it. Well - it seemed his attempt at flustering him had missed its intended target. “No, you silly little mouse,” Hyungwon finally said once his laughter died down, “this is not that kind of mirror.”

“It isn’t? What kind of mirror is it, then?”

“It’s meant for scrying,” Hyungwon explained, a mysterious hint of a smile on his lips, “communicating with spirits, seeing visions of the future.”

Changkyun blinked, not expecting that reply. “Oh.”

“Would you like to try?”

“Uh—” Changkyun stammered, the epitome of intelligence, “I— maybe that’s not—”

“It’s perfectly safe,” Hyungwon insisted, motioning to the chair in front of the desk in a quiet invitation for Changkyun to sit down. “Nothing you see in the mirror can hurt you.”

Changkyun looked from Hyungwon to the oval mirror sitting on the desk, the unlit candle next to it. He still didn’t particularly believe any of that - scrying, spirits, visions - but the concept of catching a glimpse of his future or of a ghost in the mirror’s reflection unnerved him nonetheless. Hyungwon was relaxed, though - like he had said once, he wouldn’t put Changkyun in a risky situation. All of the times Hyungwon had channeled ghosts in his vicinity, Changkyun had never come close to any harm.

And, admittedly, he was very curious.

“What do I have to do?”

“Sit,” Hyungwon instructed, tapping the back of the chair lightly. Changkyun quietly obeyed, taking a seat at Hyungwon’s desk. “All you have to do,” he began his explanation, moving his journal away so he could place the mirror at the center of the desk, in front of Changkyun, “is clear your mind and focus on the mirror.”

“Just focus on the mirror?” Changkyun asked, watching as Hyungwon brought the candle forward as well and placed it next to the mirror. “Nothing else?”

“Nothing else,” he confirmed. Next, he closed the drapes over the windows and, once that was done, searched one of the desk drawers for matches to light the candle. “It’s a form of meditation. The dark, the motion of the flames, the quiet, your very breathing, all of it allows your mind to enter a sort of trance. That’s when the visions happen.”

Changkyun inhaled deeply and then exhaled the same way, feeling a mixture of skepticism and anxiety; those emotions doubled in strength when Hyungwon began to go around the room, killing all lights with the exception of the candle in front of Changkyun.

Changkyun turned to humor as a defense mechanism, as was his way of dealing with things he didn’t understand. “A dark room, candlelight, just me and you… I am starting to suspect you’re trying to seduce me.”

He heard Hyungwon’s soft giggle - he couldn’t see him, however, not with the faint glow the candlelight provided, too weak to reach that far into the room. “That would have been the case were you not already entirely seduced.” He heard shuffling behind him, Hyungwon’s light footsteps approaching, the only warning he had before he felt his hands snaking over his shoulders, down his chest, his breath next to his ear. “Focus on the rhythm of your breathing,” Hyungwon whispered, lips brushing his cheek as he spoke, “and watch the mirror closely. Let the flame of the candle on the corner of your sight melt away into nothing.”

Changkyun leaned into Hyungwon’s touch, chased his lips with his own - Hyungwon was smiling when he captured them. It was quick, just a whim of his, and he whispered after parting the kiss, “Having you so close is very distracting.”

Hyungwon laughed and kissed him one more time before dutifully stepping away. “Forgive me, I’ll make the enormous effort of keeping my hands to myself for the time being.”

“Thank you,” Changkyun said in the most dignified way he could and turned forward to the mirror with his chin up, all theatrics.

“I’ll be standing by the door if you need me,” Hyungwon warned him, his voice gentle, and Changkyun saw his reflection in the mirror disappearing into the darkness of the room again, heard his footsteps moving away. “Now stop stalling and focus.”

Changkyun breathed out a heavy sigh, pretending to be inconvenienced by Hyungwon just for the sake of being a brat, before he shifted in the chair to get comfortable and gazed into the mirror. Clearing his mind was no easy feat, not with the amount of thoughts in his head - his new home, Guhn’s reaction to him moving in, Jooheon being upset over his hasty decision to move out of their shared apartment. Jooheon had barely spoken to him since the previous afternoon; all he did was wish Changkyun well when he left that morning, a wish that was not honest in the slightest.

No, that was not the time to think about Jooheon - he would earn Jooheon’s forgiveness later, once he’d settled down at the mansion and had the time to think of the proper way to make it happen, and once Jooheon had some time to cool off. Right now what he had to do was focus on the mirror and stop thinking.

How very ironic that, when you want to clear your head of any and all thoughts, that’s when you start overthinking everything.

Still, he continued to stare at the mirror, hoping that simply looking into it long enough would make something happen. Should he lie about it? Tell Hyungwon he saw something when all he could see was his own reflection? No, Hyungwon would likely know he was lying before he even got half a word out. Maybe he should just call the whole thing off and admit he couldn’t do it. There’s no shame in not being able to see the future in a mirror, after all.

That’s when he noticed how quiet it was. All he could hear was his own steady heartbeat and breathing, the birds outside quiet, Hyungwon making no noise, the silence so absolute Changkyun was almost certain he was alone in the room. In the world.

He swallowed thickly, and even the wet sound of the muscles of his throat pushing down the little saliva he had in his mouth was loud in the silence that surrounded him. He wanted to look away from the mirror, call for Hyungwon to make sure he was still there with him, but he figured that the silence meant that it was working. He continued to focus on his reflection and ignored that gnawing feeling of dread that had settled in his heart.

The seconds slowly ticked by, time dragging on for whoever knows how long. Changkyun never looked at himself in the mirror for such an extended period, never felt the need to be so acquainted with his own image, yet there he was. His eyes kept fixating on the mole he had on his neck, just peeking out above the collar of his shirt. He’d given a lot of thought to what Hyungwon had said about how his past life died; he had nightmares about it, one more vivid and heart-wrenching than the other. He should tell Hyungwon about it, ask what he thought of it, if that was something he should be concerned about.

Changkyun caught movement in the mirror’s reflection, in the darkness behind him, quick enough that it might as well have been his imagination. He continued trying to focus, just in case his sight hadn’t played a trick on him, and that’s when he noticed something else.

He held his breath, staring right into his own eyes in the mirror; he could swear his reflection had— smirked at him. No, it wasn’t his reflection - or was it? It couldn’t be, although it looked like himself somehow. It did but it also didn’t, there was something about it, something uncanny, his features just the slightest bit  _ off _ , wrong enough to unnerve him.

He was certain he was seeing a ghost in his reflection.  _ To communicate with spirits,  _ Hyungwon had told him. A spirit— 

He caught movement behind himself again, and almost fell from his seat when a glowing, distorted face appeared over his shoulder, the shock making him yelp so loud he was certain a stampede of servants would come running to see what was wrong.

In his panic, it took him a few seconds to realize that it wasn’t quiet anymore, not in the least - Hyungwon was laughing like a manic hyena, holding onto the back of the chair not to fall to the ground from laughing too hard. A prank. Alright. That was a prank, it was all just Hyungwon playing a trick on him.

He fixed himself in his seat, breathed deeply to soothe the frantic beating of his heart, and looked over at the mirror again. Only his reflection stared back.

No ghosts.

Changkyun scowled at his absolute menace of a lover and pulled him to himself, Hyungwon easily dropping onto his lap without a fight - not that he could fight anything in the midst of his fit of laughter, his strength completely gone from his body. Changkyun pinched him in the stomach just to add to it, knowing how ticklish he was.

“You scared the life out of me, you imp!” Changkyun said with an exaggerated hurt tone. “I thought there was really a spirit behind me.”

Hyungwon shook his head as he pushed Changkyun’s hands away from his belly. “There wasn’t, look,” he said and raised one of his hands, in which he was holding a piece of fabric with a poorly drawn face in it. “It’s phosphorescent paint, it glows in the dark.”

Changkyun’s eyes widened in wonder. “This is amazing,” he said as he took the fabric from Hyungwon’s hand to examine it more closely. “I didn’t know such a thing existed.”

“It’s a trick I learned during my stay in Paris,” Hyungwon said, his laughter having finally subsided some. “A popular medium there gifted this to me. She explained that this is how she performed her ectoplasm manifestation trick during her séances - a piece of thin fabric dipped in luminous paint.”

“Crafty,” Changkyun granted. “This is quite the ugly face, though.”

Hyungwon giggled as he wrapped one arm around Changkyun’s shoulders to keep himself from sliding off his lap. “The drawings don’t need to be perfect - a grotesque appearance often results in a more enthusiastic reaction from the patrons.”

“Well, it certainly worked on me,” Changkyun said and tossed the fabric on the desk, next to the mirror, before he laced Hyungwon’s middle with both arms. “Have you ever used it?”

Hyungwon shook his head. “No. I find it too crude a trick and ectoplasm isn’t a real phenomenon, I don’t wish to add to its popularity. I hear some mediums use the luminous paint and fishing rods to create floating orbs during their sessions. I would be amenable to that, but not— faces drawn on fabric.”

“Such a fake phenomenon elitist you are,” Changkyun teased. “Now what?”

Hyungwon grinned mischievously at him. “Now I get to teach you everything you need to know about séances, and, most importantly,” he paused to give Changkyun a noisy kiss on the cheek before concluding, “how to fake one.”

◦ ◦ ◦

Hyunwoo didn’t come home that night. Kihyun knew so not only because Hyunwoo was not there in the morning, but because he hadn’t been able to sleep at all.

He’d been lucky that Hoseok was asleep when he returned home, looking peaceful for all that his breathing was shallow and his complexion was as white as a sheet of paper; he looked so frail, so washed out.

And Hyunwoo would become like that, too.

All night long, Kihyun paced around the apartment and cried, unable to sit still for a second. There was too much going on in his head, he was too anxious, too riled up to allow himself to rest.

He was so angry, at first. Angry at Hyunwoo for hiding he was sick for so long, for lying to him about his fighting, angry at the universe and whatever higher power was responsible for bringing them so much misery. After a while stewing on that feeling, however, the anger slowly began to give way to understanding.

What would he have done in Hyunwoo’s place? If he found out he was dying, would he tell his lovers right away or would he do his best to make sure they would be taken care of financially by the time the illness made it impossible for him to work? The answer to that was obvious, so could he fault Hyunwoo in trying to take care of them?

Maybe he wouldn’t have taken the same path Hyunwoo chose to make that happen, but he would have gone to the end of the world and beyond to provide for them, save enough money that they would want for nothing when he wasn’t strong enough to carry on. Despite the secrecy, the lies, Hyunwoo was just doing what he thought was best for them. No— for Kihyun.

Hyunwoo was expecting the worse. He was preparing for the chance of Kihyun being the sole survivor, the only one out of the three of them that would be standing when the smoke cleared. Hyunwoo had decided that Kihyun should be the recipient of all their hopes and dreams for the future, because Kihyun wasn’t— he wasn’t ill like Hyunwoo and Hoseok were. Hyunwoo had chosen to work for Kihyun’s future, instead of focusing on his own recovery and Hoseok’s.

He couldn’t resent Hyunwoo for it. For all that his actions were upsetting, he had his heart in the right place. He was doing the best he could with the limited time he had, and as he’d said, he was a good fighter. It wasn’t something Kihyun wished to encourage, but he could at least admit Hyunwoo had a talent for it. That Hyunwoo was using that talent for his sake… he couldn’t be angry about that.

And Hyunwoo— he’d been dealing with all of it by himself. He was facing death on his own. He had to go through everything, the finding out he was sick, the coming to terms with his mortality, all of it, alone. Kihyun couldn’t even imagine what that must have been like, couldn’t fathom how Hyunwoo hadn’t crumbled under a weight of that magnitude.

Hyunwoo was so strong. Hoseok was so strong.

Kihyun, as he was slowly realizing, was the weak one.

He was so incredibly proud of them. Both of his loves were so very strong, and it wasn’t fair that their strength was being spent on something so terrible, something that would have crushed the spirit of most people. Yet there they were, fighting. Doing their best.

Now, standing under the morning sunlight that streamed through the window, Kihyun felt only regret. He often thought of himself as the problem-solver. ‘I’ll handle it’ and ‘I’ll take care of it’ had become his mottos, but the truth was— he couldn’t handle a thing. He certainly hadn’t handled the situation with Hyunwoo. He made a mess of it, made Hyunwoo upset in the process, strained their relationship further.

He only hoped Hyunwoo would come home soon, so Kihyun could apologize for his behavior and tell him he loved him no matter what. That he wasn’t angry. That he would be there for Hyunwoo to the bitter end.

For the time being, he busied himself with preparing something for Hoseok to eat when he woke up, hoping it would keep his mind away from despairing topics. He had to at least look like he wasn’t at the brink of a mental breakdown when he faced Hoseok. He couldn’t tell him. It wasn’t his secret to share, and even if it was… Hyunwoo should be there. It was the type of conversation that required the three of them.

By the time he was done preparing breakfast, Kihyun still had no idea what he would say to Hoseok about the events that transpired that night. And Hoseok would be able to tell something was wrong by taking half a glance at Kihyun, not only because of Hoseok’s uncanny instincts for detecting distress, but because Kihyun looked just as broken as he felt.

Anyone would after a sleepless night of pacing and crying.

At least he felt strong enough not to burst into tears in front of Hoseok. Crying wouldn’t solve anything, it would only serve to worry Hoseok and make him distressed in turn. He had to keep it together.

Maybe he should take the day off. He didn’t feel like he could deal with people that day. He wanted to stay in, spend time with Hoseok, and wait for Hyunwoo to come back. He needed to be with his loves - so that’s what he would do.

As expected, the moment Kihyun entered the bedroom, Hoseok, already awake and reclining on his pillows, stared at him with wide eyes.

“Kihyun, what happened!?”

Kihyun gave him a tired smile on his way to the nightstand, where he left the tray he’d been carrying. “Let’s just say my strategy backfired.”

“What do you mean ‘backfired’? Where’s Hyunwoo?”

“He probably spent the night at the ship,” Kihyun said, hoping Hoseok would take his reluctance as a sign to stop asking.

He didn’t. “The ship? Why? Did you fight again?”

“In a way,” he said, then passed the plate with buttered bread to Hoseok. “Here you go, bunny.”

Hoseok looked up at him dubiously and sighed, but took the plate. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

Kihyun sat down next to Hoseok on the bed, and shook his head after a moment. “No. At least not right now.”

Hoseok watched him for a few seconds, expression a mix of curiosity, exasperation, and concern, but soon enough he nodded to show he understood Kihyun’s wish. “Alright, I will wait until you’re feeling up to talking about it.” He then put the plate back on the tray and pulled Kihyun to himself, and Kihyun gladly let him wrap his arms around him.

He had no idea how much he needed to be the one coddled for a change. It’d been ages since the last time he was comforted like that, held like that, so he closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment to be weak.

He shifted on the bed so he could line his head with Hoseok’s chest, ear pressed right over his heart, and decided that that’s where he would stay for the next several minutes. Hoseok understood right away and began stroking his hair, rubbing his back. Kihyun wanted to cry -  _ needed _ to cry - but as it was his routine, he held it in. He could cry when Hoseok was asleep.

“He’s not cheating on us, is he?” Hoseok suddenly asked.

Kihyun chuckled through his nose. “No, bunny, he’s not. If he were, he would be sleeping at the bottom of the river instead of at the ship.”

“Like you could ever hurt him,” Hoseok said, laughing. “As long as he’s not cheating on us, anything else can be fixed.”

Kihyun’s heart tightened at the choice of words. Fix— they couldn’t ‘fix’ consumption. Maybe if they had more money to afford that new surgery Kihyun had read about somewhere, the one that involved collapsing the infected lung to allow it time to heal, maybe they could fix it then. They didn’t have enough money, though - not enough for one of them, much less two.

He couldn’t say that to Hoseok, however, not yet. So he simply settled on saying, “He loves us very much.”

“I know,” Hoseok said. “We love him very much too.”

“Mhm, we do.”

“And I love you very much,” he murmured into Kihyun’s hair. Kihyun could have melted right then and there.

“I love you very much, too.”

“Everything is going to be alright, Ki,” Hoseok said, still keeping his voice low. “You and Woo never stay mad at each other for long.”

“Yes, because we all know which of the three of us tends to hold grudges,” Kihyun said playfully as he gave him a pointed look, making Hoseok giggle.

“I can’t argue with that,” he said. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

Kihyun shook his head in response. “I’ll take a nap later, I’m still too riled up.”

“You haven’t even changed out of your cat burglar outfit,” Hoseok said, a hint of judgment in his tone. “What am I going to do with you?”

Kihyun smiled against his chest. “Eat your breakfast, bunny. I’ll run us a bath, I’d wager it will make both of us feel better.”

“To do that you have to get up first.”

“I never said I was going to do it right now.”

Hoseok laughed and pressed a kiss to Kihyun’s forehead. “Alright then.”

They stayed like that for a while, basking in the quiet and each other’s company, and Kihyun felt a little better. He didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t  _ like _ being alone, he was too used to having two constant companions and being without them was— it was wrong. The months he had to spend away from them were pure torture, and after everything he did, everything they’ve been through, he refused to lose them. Either of them.

Once Hyunwoo got home, he would put an end to their fighting. And once that had been handled, he would continue to fight to keep them both alive for as long as he possibly could - and longer still.

◦ ◦ ◦

Jooheon hadn’t spoken to him since the previous day, and Minhyuk had no idea what to do about it. Fair, Jooheon didn’t usually seek out Minhyuk even when they were on good terms, but there was this iciness emanating from him now, like a warning that told Minhyuk to stay away or he’d lose a limb. While he was willing to lose as many limbs necessary to get Jooheon to talk to him again, he figured that poking him would likely result in making him even angrier, which was the opposite of what Minhyuk wished to accomplish.

But what  _ could _ he do about it? He would be leaving soon, just like Jooheon had so kindly pointed out the day prior. Trying to sugarcoat it would not change that fact, neither would pretending it wasn’t happening.

Minhyuk would leave. Jooheon was upset about it. That was the reality.

Still, Minhyuk didn’t want to leave with Jooheon angry at him. If there was a chance for them to part as friends, or at least as friendly acquaintances, Minhyuk wanted to take it.

Or, as his mind constantly supplied whenever Minhyuk thought of Jooheon, he could— stay. He dismissed the idea any time it occurred to him - staying wasn’t ideal. With the circus, he had a job lined up, a place to sleep with no charge, and, most importantly, freedom. If he decided to stay, he would have to scramble to find work and a place cheap enough for him to rent, and he would be a lot more restricted. The one bright light about that plan is that Jooheon would be there.

Was that enough? Being near Jooheon? Maybe it would be, if Jooheon gave Minhyuk the time of day instead of keeping him at arm’s length. As it was, Minhyuk didn’t have a guarantee that staying would be worth it - Jooheon was the type of person who needed stability; Minhyuk was the opposite of stable. His general state of existence was chaotic and unpredictable, so that was a game they had lost from the very start because— Minhyuk was not going to change who he was for Jooheon, and he would never ask Jooheon to do so either.

Yes, romantically speaking, Minhyuk was capable of settling down and remaining faithful to a single person. He had a reputation for being promiscuous and easy, but that was only true because Minhyuk had the freedom to behave as such. If it turned out that Jooheon harbored a romantic interest in him, then Minhyuk would toss his libertine lifestyle right out the window and never look back.

Of course, to get to that point Minhyuk would have to come to terms with the fact that he might feel a little more than friendship towards Jooheon, and that was— that was terrifying. Facing his feelings involved a level of vulnerability Minhyuk was not comfortable with in the slightest.

He could barely admit to himself he was infatuated with Jooheon, so how could he confess those feelings to him directly? And only to be rejected, because Jooheon, unlike Minhyuk’s various other partners, had standards.

Jooheon deserved better. Jooheon deserved a fairytale-worthy romance, not— not whatever Minhyuk could offer him. For Jooheon’s sake, he concluded, he would stick to his original plan and leave.

Unless—

Unless he could convince Jooheon to come away with him instead.

Chances of that plan working were close to null, but it could be worth trying; now that Changkyun had moved out and Jooheon was living alone, it was one less reason for him to want to remain at that city. Perhaps he would come around with the right incentive, and if he did, then Minhyuk would have more time to win him over and prove he could meet his standards.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked that idea. He’d thought about it in passing a few times, wondered how fun it would be to travel the country with Jooheon, but those thoughts were never shaped like plans - they were simply daydreams.  _ Now _ — now they were closer to reality, and Minhyuk felt giddy with the prospect.

Of course, that would only be a reality if he succeeded in convincing Jooheon, which would not be an easy feat. He had to get started right away if he wanted to make it happen before the circus left - he only had about a week.

Alight with a new purpose, Minyhuk took a deep breath and hopped off the stool in which he’d been sitting for the past few minutes, set on making his way to wherever Jooheon was - some searching would be necessary, because Minhyuk wasn’t sure where he’d be at that time in the afternoon. Maybe with the tiger?

He didn’t make it very far, perhaps two or three steps, before a pair of arms appeared around his waist as if by magic and pulled him backwards, causing him to lose his balance momentarily. Whoever it was had the courtesy of not letting him fall, at least. A part of him hoped it was Jooheon.

Of course, it wasn’t.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” the man who grabbed him asked, voice light with mirth. Minhyuk recognized it right away - Mark, who was, coincidentally, the same man he’d been with at that shed the day he first met Jooheon.

Minhyuk wiggled his way out of Mark’s grasp so he could turn around to face him, all the while whining, “What on earth are you doing, going around grabbing people like this? You scared the wits out of me!”

Mark laughed, allowing Minhyuk room to turn without removing his hands from his waist - Minhyuk was quite aware of such. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. I saw you brooding and doing nothing, so I thought maybe we could…” Mark trailed off, a smirk appearing on his lips. Minhyuk arched an eyebrow at him. “You know… Find someplace quiet and do something fun.”

Minhyuk huffed and tried - unsuccessfully - to pry Mark’s grubby fingers from himself. “You only come looking for me when you want something, it’s never a ‘hey, Minhyuk, how are you doing today?’, I see exactly how it is.”

“Oh, come on,” Mark said, still laughing. “You know it isn’t like that.”

“Isn’t it?” Minhyuk threw back. “It doesn’t matter, though, I am actually quite busy right now, so—”

“Busy?” Mark echoed, expression shifting into one of confusion. “You’ve been sitting there staring into space until a minute ago, you’re not busy.”

“I  _ wasn’t _ busy, but I am now,” Minhyuk corrected, enunciating the words slowly. “I have something I need to do.”

Mark didn’t look like he believed a word he’d said but, as it was the truth, Minhyuk easily held his gaze. Seeing that Minhyuk wouldn’t budge, Mark sighed and said, “Very well, as you say. And after you are done with this ‘something’, can you make some time on your very busy schedule for me?”

Minhyuk chewed on his lip thoughtfully at the question. At any other day, he would have not hesitated for a second before agreeing and, besides, he hadn’t laid with anyone for a while now - not ever since he began realizing his more-than-friendly feelings towards Jooheon. A tumble with Mark was not something he was averse to; he liked Mark. He was handsome, and funny, and pleasant to be around, and his prowess in bed was nothing to sneer at either. And yet—

Even if he agreed to it, would he enjoy himself? He’d been too turned inwards to his budding feelings for Jooheon and his quest to bring Hyungwon’s reputation to the ground to let go and appreciate whatever pleasure Mark could offer him.

And, whether he wanted to admit it or not, being with someone who wasn’t Jooheon felt… wrong.

Ridiculous. He had no reason to feel that sense of loyalty towards Jooheon - they had no relationship to speak of, as even calling themselves ‘friends’ felt like a stretch. Jooheon never asked for Minhyuk to remain faithful to him, because he had no ground to make such a request, the same way Minhyuk had no right to ask the same of Jooheon. Yes, the thought of Jooheon with someone else made Minhyuk’s gut churn unpleasantly and his heart burn with jealousy, but in the end, there really was nothing he could do.

Not without a commitment first. Or at least an inkling that Jooheon might feel something towards him. If he did, then Minhyuk would have plausible reason to reject the advances of anyone who wasn’t Jooheon; as it was, he didn’t have that confirmation.

Yet.

Which was why he had to stop thinking so much and start acting - he had to convince Jooheon to come with him when the circus left, and he had to figure out if there was any chance for them to become something more.

Mark was still waiting for Minhyuk to reach his conclusion, no matter how impatient he seemed. He liked that about Mark too - he knew how to be polite. The same could not be said about many of their co-workers.

“I can’t promise anything,” Minhyuk finally said. “I don’t know how long it’ll take for me to be done, so it might be a better idea for you to find someone else.”

Mark groaned and rolled his eyes. “If I wanted someone else I wouldn’t be asking you.”

Minhyuk couldn’t help a pleased little grin - flattery went a long way with him. “Why, thank you. It is very good to know I’m your first choice.” Shifting into a more serious tone, he said, “I still think you should find someone else, if you’re feeling— pressed. I really am busy today.”

Mark still seemed unconvinced. “Fine, I know when I’m being rejected.” Minhyuk was expecting him to walk away - he didn’t. Instead, he slid his hands lower from Minhyuk’s waist to his hips. “Sure I can’t convince you to change your mind?”

“You can’t, now if you’ll excuse me—” Minhyuk said, turning around easily in Mark’s loose grip, only to see Jooheon passing by - for a split second he thought he saw him turn away from where Minhyuk was standing with Mark. If he did—

Minhyuk’s stomach dropped, a small panic bubbling up in his chest. If Jooheon had seen them, he probably misinterpreted what was happening, which would paint a very wrong picture regarding Minhyuk’s feelings towards him. He couldn’t have that, he had to clear things up with him as soon as possible.

“I have to go now, bye!” Minhyuk said absently to Mark without even bothering to turn around, sprinting after Jooheon with single-minded purpose. “Honey, wait!”

If Jooheon heard him, he pretended not to; he continued walking ahead, his pace fast enough that Minhyuk thought he was in a hurry to get somewhere - or maybe to get away from him. Minhyuk ran faster.

“Honey!” he called out again, and again Jooheon ignored him. “Slow down, I have to talk to you!”

Jooheon didn’t react again, didn’t even acknowledge him when Minhyuk finally caught up. Accompanying Jooheon was a bit of a struggle with how fast he was walking, but Minhyuk was a man on a mission.

“Honey, hey!” Minhyuk greeted in the most friendly tone possible.

Jooheon glared at him from the corner of his eyes but kept walking. “I don’t have any news from Changkyun about Hyungwon, and even if I did, I don’t want to be involved in your strange obsession with him anymore.”

“What?” Minhyuk croaked, entirely confused with Jooheon’s words. He wasn’t even thinking about Changkyun or Hyungwon, did Jooheon really believe that was all Minhyuk had to talk to him about? “That isn’t why I want to talk to you.”

Jooheon huffed an unconvinced laugh through his nose but made no further comment. Minhyuk didn’t let the mild hostility deter him, however.

“I wanted to check on you,” he said. “You seemed upset that Changkyun moved out, I’ve been worried.” Again, no answer. “How are you doing? We haven’t talked since—”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Jooheon interrupted him somewhat harshly. “Or something to do? Or some _ one _ to do?”

Minhyuk scowled at the implication. “That was uncalled for.”

“I saw you with Mark just now, why don’t you go be with him?”

The scowl promptly gave way to a pleased grin. “Are you jealous, my honey?”

Jooheon gave him a sideways glance, frowning. Under the sun, Minhyuk knew he wasn’t imagining the pink hue tinting his cheeks. “Why would I be jealous?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Minhyuk said, his grin widening.

“I’m not jealous,” Jooheon grumbled the reply. “I have work to do, go pester someone else.”

“Pester!?” Minhyuk parroted with an affected tone of desolation. “You think I’m a bother? Honey, you’re so mean!”

“What do you want, Minhyuk?” Jooheon asked, now sounding quite annoyed. Minhyuk decided that it was probably wise to tone it down.

“I only want to spend some time with you,” he said, as earnestly as possible. “Is that so bad?”

“Considering how you’ll be gone in about a week, yes, it is.”

“But why?” Minhyuk insisted. “We should enjoy the time we have left, right?”

“You won’t find much enjoyment around me, so go back to Mark,” Jooheon said at the same time he pushed the door of a tool shed open and went in. Minhyuk followed him inside.

“When will you get it into your thick skull that I want to spend time with  _ you?”  _ Minhyuk asked, not quite snapping at Jooheon but dangerously close. 

Jooheon had his back turned, searching around the precarious shelves for some tool or another. “Why would you want that? I have nothing for you, no information and no desire to bend you over a haystack, so—”

“Jooheon, what the hell!?” Minhyuk finally snapped. “Has it ever occurred to you that I seek you out because I enjoy your company?”

“Honestly? No,” Jooheon replied. He turned around, for the first time looking at Minhyuk in the eyes since that exchange began. “What do you really want, Minhyuk?”

_ ‘You’ _ , he almost replied. Instead, he shrugged and said, “I told you already - I want to spend time with you because I enjoy your company.”

Jooheon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and he crossed his arms, assuming a defensive stance that wasn’t at all called for. “I don’t believe you.”

Minhyuk squawked with indignance. “Why—”

“You have that look in your eyes,” Jooheon continued, ignoring Minhyuk’s reaction. “You look like you have something on your mind, and whatever it is, I want no part in it.”

Maybe Minhyuk should feel flattered that Jooheon knew how to recognize his state of mind with a glance. At the moment, he felt only exasperation. “Alright, you know what, fine,” he said. “I wanted to— I want to know if you’re certain you don’t want to come away with me— I mean, with the circus, when it leaves.”

“Yes, I’m certain,” Jooheon said without a second’s worth of hesitation and turned around to keep looking for whatever he wanted to find.

Minhyuk swallowed the ball of insecurity that was clogging his throat and tried again. “I just thought that now that Changkyun moved out, you would reconsider—”

“You think I want to stay just because of Changkyun?” Jooheon interrupted him again, looking at Minhyuk over his shoulder with a confused expression. “My entire life is here and I like this city. Just because you’re used to roaming without settling down anywhere, it doesn’t mean I feel the same way.”

That certainly put a damper on Minhyuk’s plan. He was still determined, though. “It’s not just that, I— I don’t know. I’ll miss you, is all.”

Jooheon visibly softened upon hearing those words, but before Minhyuk could rejoice in the sight, he’d turned around again. “You’ll forget me soon enough.”

Minhyuk was so frustrated he could cry. “I won’t! I could never forget you, why won’t you believe me?”

Jooheon didn’t reply this time; he simply continued to rummage through the shelves, and now Minhyuk was certain he was just trying to look busy.

“Honey, would you look at me?”

Jooheon’s actions stuttered for a quick moment, but he didn’t turn around. “Just go, Minhyuk.”

“No!” Minhyuk instantly replied, moving forward to get closer to Jooheon. “It doesn’t feel right to leave and never see you again, I— during my time here, I got attached to you. Maybe more than I should have. So would you consider it?”

Jooheon scoffed, which threw Minhyuk off - he wasn’t expecting a scoff, of all things. “That’s what  _ you _ want because that’s how  _ you _ feel, but have you considered what  _ I _ want and what  _ I _ feel before asking me this? You haven’t, because you don’t care.”

“Wh— I do care!” Minhyuk protested. “But you never tell me anything!”

“Why don’t you read me then, if you’re so good at it?” Jooheon asked mockingly, and now he was just being spiteful. Minhyuk was that much closer to bursting into tears. “You’re being selfish. You want me to leave with you now, but I bet it wouldn’t take long for you to get bored with me and find someone else to call ‘honey’, so spare me.”

Minhyuk’s spirits deflated as if by magic.

“Is that how you feel? You truly think so little of me?”

Jooheon lowered his head, avoiding looking at Minhyuk’s direction. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters,” he argued, stepping even closer to Jooheon and grabbing onto his sleeve. “I know I don’t seem reliable and that I appear to be nonchalant about everything and everyone, but— when I care about someone, I really care about them - and I  _ do _ care about you. You probably don’t believe me, but I would never tell you this if it wasn’t the truth.”

Jooheon looked down at Minhyuk’s hand on his sleeve, expression pinched as if he’d bit into a particularly bitter lemon. Minhyuk only waited for him to say something, his heart pounding so fast he feared he would have a stroke.

“Maybe you’re telling the truth,” Jooheon began, very slowly, measuring his words, “and I have to admit that I have also become attached to you, in a way.” Minhyuk felt a flicker of hope at those words, even when he knew a ‘but’ was coming. “But,” and there it was, “I can’t and won’t uproot my entire life over this. You might take such changes lightly, as you are used to traveling; to me, though— it’s too much and too fast, and my decision won’t change in a week. I’m sorry, but the answer is no. I’m not leaving with the circus.”

Minhyuk bit his lips and nodded to show he understood. “Alright. When you put it that way, I can see that I’m getting ahead of myself.” He tugged on Jooheon’s sleeve, coaxing him to look up, face him. Jooheon hesitantly did. “Won’t you ask me to stay, then?”

Jooheon opened his mouth before closing it again, as if changing his mind about whatever he’d been about to say. He looked at Minhyuk for a moment, during which Minhyuk took the chance to take in Jooheon’s features - the length of his eyelashes, the ghosts of the dimples in his cheeks, his heart-shaped lips - until he finally said, “Would it make a difference?”

“Maybe,” Minhyuk murmured, eyes lingering on Jooheon’s lips without any control of his. Jooheon noticed his very obvious stare, his own eyes shifting down to Minhyuk’s lips.

It felt like the universe was holding its breath along with them, the moment hanging on a tense thread about to snap at any disturbance. Minhyuk’s mind was screaming at him to lean in, kiss him, put an end to whatever game they were playing - it would be so easy. They were so close all it would take was a little impulse, all he had to do was lean in and do it. And how very inviting Jooheon’s lips were, pink and plump, tempting like candy and probably just as sweet—

The moment was over like it never happened at all when Jooheon stepped back, away from Minhyuk, and shook his head as if awakening from a dream.

“I won’t ask,” he said, and quickly left the shed, carrying no tool with him as he did.

Minhyuk simply stood there, staring dumbstruck at the open door, trying with no success to make sense of what the hell had just happened. He’d wasted a precious chance, and yet— it felt like hope.

Jooheon didn’t seem averse to the idea of being near Minhyuk, being kissed by him, on the contrary; Jooheon was just afraid. Afraid of having his heart toyed with, afraid of being another of Minhyuk’s conquests. He could see that in him, clear as a sunny day. He could work with that.

Minhyuk took a deep breath, and then another, and another. Only once he felt like he was control of all his functions was that he stepped out of the shed, smiling to himself. There was still a chance and very little time to take it - now, however, he had a better idea of how to proceed. He would not give up, not until the very last second.

◦ ◦ ◦

Hyungwon had been right in his assumption that Guhn would put him in the furthest bedroom possible from his own. Changkyun had been lying there motionless for a while, unable to fall asleep, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, surrounded by an unfamiliar smell; the entire room smelled of— clean. A clean smell, woody, likely from the polish the servants used to luster the furniture. The bed wasn’t uncomfortable - in fact, it was the most comfortable surface he’d ever laid on - but it was still a strange bed. Those were still strange blankets, no matter how soft.

The unfamiliarity with his surroundings made him extremely uncomfortable, and that added to the general atmosphere of the house made him feel as if he’d tripped and fallen headfirst into one of the penny dreadfuls he read on occasion.

And it was so—  _ quiet _ .

In the city, there was noise at all times, people constantly buzzing about be it day or night, but there, in the moor— there was nothing. The silence was loud, though. It was so absolute he could hear a pin drop from the other side of the mansion. He flinched at every little sound that broke through that stillness, from an owl hooting outside to the old wood of the mansion creaking as it settled.

He also thought he could hear whispering, at times. It was always faint and for only a few seconds, which was likely a result of an overactive imagination, but it unnerved him regardless of its origin.

How very ridiculous - he was a grown man and there he was, afraid of the dark, afraid of the quiet. He was even afraid of closing his eyes. It made him feel like a frightened child wishing to hide under his blankets as if that would keep him safe, as if there was any logic to it.

So he laid there and stared at the ceiling, at the long shadows cast by the ornamental trees in the garden outside. He wanted to get up and trek across the mansion to Hyungwon’s room, crawl into bed with him, into his arms, where he would be safe, but he feared that was a terrible idea. He didn’t know if he would be allowed inside, as Hyungwon likely kept his door locked at night, and what if he walked all the way there, in the dark, only to be stranded in the unfamiliar hallways? He didn’t want to risk it.

His best option was to get over it and try to sleep. It had been a terribly long, tiring day, and he was exhausted. His body wanted him to be asleep, but his mind wouldn’t let sleep take him. He was just too keyed up, too jittery. Were he still in the apartment he shared with Jooheon, he could simply get up and warm up some milk to help him relax, perhaps make some chamomile tea. He didn’t think he could do that now, couldn’t go down to the kitchens and help himself, but he also didn’t want to bother the servants in the middle of the night because he was too nervous to fall asleep.

Getting over it would have to do. There was no other option.

As he tried to figure out a way to lure sleep in - maybe counting sheep? - Changkyun heard something outside of his room, his head snapping towards the door instinctively. It sounded like shuffling, muffled creaking. Footsteps?

While he listened to the noises, they got closer and closer, and now he was certain those were footsteps. Changkyun tensed, fingers clutching his covers tight. What if it was Guhn? What if he tried to smother him with a pillow? He didn’t put it past him, no matter what Hyungwon said about Guhn ‘not biting’.

The footsteps stopped in front of the door and Changkyun held his breath. He heard the doorknob jiggle, then the tell-tale  _ clink _ of a key turning. He braced himself, ready to defend himself if need be, but relaxed when he was met with Hyungwon peeking inside, the candlestick in his hand the only source of light.

Changkyun let out the air he was holding and went limp on the bed. “You have got to stop scaring me like this.”

Hyungwon gave him a cheeky smile and entered the room properly, closing and locking the door behind himself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. Not this time, at least.”

He gave him an unimpressed look as he sat up on the bed, throwing his covers aside just as Hyungwon placed the candlestick on the nightstand. “I’ll only forgive you because I’m so happy you entered my room without even knocking.”

“If you want me to leave—”

“No, no, please stay,” Changkyun said quickly and grabbed one of Hyungwon’s hands, tugging him to sit next to him on the bed. Hyungwon promptly did so and Changkyun scooted closer to press a kiss to his shoulder to welcome him. “What are you doing here, though? It’s late, you should be resting.”

“I couldn’t fall asleep,” Hyungwon said. He looked so soft in his sleeping shirt, his hair messy, almost feathery in its disarray. “I had to come check on you. I know this place is not the most comforting at night, when you’re not used to it.”

Changkyun smiled, heart fluttering with Hyungwon’s thoughtful gesture. “Thank you for worrying about me.”

Hyungwon lowered his eyes, looking bashful at Changkyun’s words, before he asked in a soft voice, “Is everything alright here? Do you need anything?”

“All I needed just snuck into my room,” Changkyun immediately replied, arms snaking around Hyungwon’s narrow waist. The position they were sitting made it optimal for Changkyun to rest his chin on Hyungwon’s shoulder. “I was having some trouble sleeping,” he admitted. “I thought of sneaking into your room myself, in fact.”

“Why didn’t you? My bed is much more comfortable,” Hyungwon quipped; Changkyun felt his face heat up. “Actually, I’ve already ordered a key to my room be made for you - or, well,  _ our _ room, as you’ll be moving in soon. It should be ready tomorrow or the day after.”

“That will make sneaking in much easier,” he joked. Hyungwon rolled his eyes and shook his head fondly.

“It’s not ‘sneaking in’ if it’s your own room.”

“Shh, don’t distract me with your logic,” he murmured, and pressed a kiss to Hyungwon’s lips as if that would make him stop talking.

It worked, in a way - after kissing him once, Changkyun couldn’t resist kissing him again and again, until what had begun as brief, playful pecks turned more intense, much hungrier than before, and he licked into Hyungwon’s mouth to deepen the kiss, felt one of Hyungwon’s hands on his upper thigh, his fingertips digging softly into his flesh.

This was it, Changkyun thought - the chance he’d been waiting for to take their relationship a step ahead had finally presented itself, the timing so perfect it might as well have been planned. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if Hyungwon suddenly revealed that he had gone to his room for much more than to just ‘check on him’. Chances were, Hyungwon had been envisioning it for a while and, when denied the opportunity of having Changkyun readily available in the room adjacent to his, he took it upon himself to turn the situation around in their favor. 

While Changkyun would vastly prefer that it happened in Hyungwon’s own room, in his own bed, somewhere that was safe and familiar to them both, he would not complain. He just wanted to be with Hyungwon, it didn’t matter the room.

He trailed kisses from Hyungwon lips to his jaw, down to his neck, and stopped in the sensitive area under his ear. Hyungwon’s skin came alive with goosebumps, his warm, shuddery breath hitting the side of Changkyun’s neck pleasantly. “Are you going to stay?” he asked. “Spend the night with me?”

Hyungwon bit the corner of his lower lip and ducked his head, the flush on his cheeks still visible in the candlelight. “If that is your wish.”

“It is,” he whispered in response, secretive. Any louder and he felt like he would burst that bubble of intimacy they had put themselves in. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, I promise.”

Hyungwon glanced up at him, a timid smile playing on his lips. “I want you to do everything to me, though.”

Changkyun felt a rush of heat through his body at the words, but forced himself to remain calm. He didn’t want to appear too eager, no matter how very,  _ very _ eager he was. Hyungwon’s sudden hesitation was a sign that he was getting a bit ahead of himself.

“What’s the matter, then?” he asked, bringing one hand up to stroke Hyungwon’s cheek lovingly, then brush his hair away from his eyes. “You never…?”

“I have,” Hyungwon said, understanding Changkyun’s question even if he never finished elaborating it. His eyes flitted away again, down to the pristine white bedding. “I— I’ve only been intimate with one person before. A woman.”

Jealousy spiked in his heart again. Changkyun forced himself to ignore it, lest he completely ruined the moment. Still, he couldn’t help the question, “The one from your necklace?”

Hyungwon quietly confirmed with a nod of his head. Changkyun’s eyes traveled down to his neck on instinct, fully prepared to glare at the pendant as had become his routine, but— he wasn’t wearing it. Hyungwon’s long neck was bare of any adornments, not even his usual high collared undershirts hiding his throat. Changkyun had to try very hard not to smile in a display of petty triumph.

The only reaction he allowed himself to perform to show he was happy was to kiss Hyungwon’s cheek, a soft, barely-there touch of his lips. Hyungwon looked up at him again, searching for something in Changkyun’s expression which he appeared to have found, considering how the tenseness in his features eased some.

“It’s alright. We can take it slow,” Changkyun said in a low timbre, coaxing Hyungwon to climb further onto the bed. “All you have to do is relax.” Hyungwon allowed Changkyun to guide him, let him push him gently down on the soft mattress, his head sinking into the feather-filled pillows. He looked so lovely, so very lovely - and he was all his. How did he ever get so lucky was beyond him. “Let me take care of you.”

As he slowly crawled over Hyungwon to settle on top of him, Changkyun set a goal in his mind: that night, he would erase every memory of that mysterious woman from Hyungwon’s head and replace them with thoughts of him. He would make it so that Hyungwon’s heart and mind were filled with Changkyun and nobody else. No more past, long-dead lovers - just himself and himself only.

◦ ◦ ◦

After an entire day of worrying, sleep in the form of sparse cat naps, and hardly any food at all, Kihyun’s mind was finally too tired to keep working. His head was blank of any thoughts - all he had was anxiety to keep him going. Hoseok, luckily, had been asleep for a couple of hours now, and Kihyun was standing by the window in the living room, staring at the dark river outside, waiting.

Hyunwoo had to come home. There was too much Kihyun needed to say, so much he had to tell him. He couldn’t bear the thought of Hyunwoo having to deal with everything by himself. He had to put an end to all the fighting, all the secrets, and he was willing to do anything to make that happen, cast aside his pride and everything he thought was right, everything he believed in, all for Hyunwoo’s sake. For Hoseok. He would never save them if he kept to his stubborn ways.

He was aware he was headstrong and unyielding at times— no, most of the time. He came from a sincere place, his intentions were good, but what good are good intentions, in the end? Good intentions won’t cure Hoseok and Hyunwoo. Good intentions are not a promise of salvation, they’re not a guarantee that everything will turn out fine at the end of the road. Good intentions can backfire just like bad intentions can - even more. Good intentions pave the way to hell, as his mother used to say.

They would never be out of the woods if Kihyun was always so concerned about keeping his morals intact. Hyunwoo had the right of it, going straight for the prize and cutting all corners to get it. Their business dealings aside, Kihyun had always preferred to do things by the book. A criminal he was, but he was also a rule follower; a paradox of traits he’d somehow managed to pair together to create the most ironic personality in history. Hyunwoo had been right when he called him a hypocrite, and maybe it was time for Kihyun to open his eyes to that fact, and— and what? Enter a fighting tournament like Hyunwoo? Ridiculous.

His brain was much too tired to think that far.

The sound of the door opening and closing startled him and he held his breath as he whirled around to watch Hyunwoo entering the apartment with his head low and a new bruise on his cheekbone. Both of them froze when their eyes met, seconds that felt like an eternity stretching between them. A broken whimper escaped Kihyun’s lips and that was the sound that shattered their moment of hesitation, for Kihyun immediately ran the short distance from the window to the door and all but threw himself into Hyunwoo’s arms.

He feared Hyunwoo would push him away, reject him, but Hyunwoo held him back just as tight. The relief was so grand Kihyun let go of his iron will to keep his tears contained in front of his loves and sobbed openly against Hyunwoo’s chest, gripping the back of his shirt so hard his fingertips hurt. A litany of apologies tumbled out of his mouth, and he was probably not making any sense with how emotion had muddled his speech, yet Hyunwoo didn’t appear to mind; he only held him close and whispered soothing words into his ear, until Kihyun was able to gather himself enough to be capable of holding a conversation.

“I’m sorry,” Kihyun said, for the first time enunciating the words clearly. “I’m sorry I followed you last night, and I’m sorry for yelling, and I’m sorry for not understanding, and—”

“Ki, it’s alright,” Hyunwoo said. He sounded just as wretched as Kihyun felt. “I’m the one who’s sorry, I’m sorry for lying and hiding things from you and Hoseok, I’m so sorry.”

Kihyun shook his head and stepped back so he could look up at Hyunwoo, a strained smile on his face. “No, that’s— we’re both sorry, we both made a mess of things.”

Hyunwoo chuckled and sniffed, bringing a hand up to wipe the tear tracks off his face. “I can accept that.”

“I forgive you,” he said before Hyunwoo had even finished speaking. “I thought a lot about it and after I calmed down I— I realized that, while I don’t agree with your choices, I understand what you were trying to do.”

Hyunwoo was quiet for a moment, his sniffles the only sound he made, before he murmured, “I didn’t ‘try’, Ki. I did it.”

Kihyun huffed, not in the mood for arguing over something so small. “Yes, you know what I meant, I—”

“No, no, you’re not getting it,” Hyunwoo said, and there as laughter in his voice. “The finals were tonight. I won, Ki.”

Kihyun blinked, staring at Hyunwoo through tears and confusion. “You— you won?”

Hyunwoo nodded to confirm. “I won. I won the prize money, it’s over.”

Kihyun closed his eyes and his smile this time was genuine and open. He hugged Hyunwoo again, pressed his face to his chest, and said, “While I hate that you did this at all, I— I’m proud of you.” He then looked up again to meet Hyunwoo’s eyes and added, “But, please, tell me you won’t do this anymore.”

Hyunwoo’s response was to sigh and press a kiss to Kihyun’s forehead. “If there is another tournament and the prize is good—”

“I get it,” Kihyun interrupted. “I know I can’t stop you.”

Hyunwoo pulled Kihyun into another hug, a hug that said ‘I’m sorry’ even if he hadn’t said it himself. “If there is a next time, I won’t go behind your back.”

“Thank you,” he said. “It’s not what I want, but— I’ll take what I can get.”

“Don’t you want to know how much I won?”

“No… Not tonight. I don’t want to think about money right now.”

He felt a kiss being pressed to his temple and closed his eyes, focused on his own breathing, on Hyunwoo’s rapid heartbeat; he was much calmer by then, even if the occasional tear still escaped his eyes. Just having Hyunwoo there, with him, to not be fighting with him anymore, was enough to ease a considerable amount of pressure on his heart.

Not all of it, though.

Kihyun pulled away from the hug once more, peering up at Hyunwoo with concern. In a careful, somber tone, he asked, “How are you? Are you feeling well?”

“I’m fine,” Hyunwoo murmured, lowering his gaze to the ground. “It’s still early enough that it doesn’t get so bad. It hasn't yet, at any rate.”

Kihyun nodded jerkily to acknowledge his words and, without saying anything, tugged on Hyunwoo’s hand to coax him to follow to the recliner so they could sit down. If they didn’t, Kihyun was certain his legs would give out, both from exhaustion and nerves.

Only once they were properly seated, Kihyun snuggled up against Hyunwoo as if he would die if they weren’t as close as possible, did he continue the conversation.

“I wish you had told me sooner,” Kihyun said. “Perhaps not about the fighting, but that you’re sick.”

“I know,” Hyunwoo replied in a quiet voice. “I thought— I didn’t want you to have one more thing to worry about, not with Hoseok’s health getting worse every day.” He licked his lips, a nervous tick of his. “How is he, by the way?”

Kihyun rested his head on Hyunwoo’s shoulder. It felt like it’d gotten too heavy for him to hold it up anymore. “He’s as well as he can be, I suppose. He didn’t have another fever today, although I think he was forcing himself to appear better than he actually felt for my sake.”

He couldn’t help but wonder if Hoseok would have the presence of spirit to pretend to be alright when they told him. Hoseok was very good at concealing when he was upset, but this— this was the sort of thing that could break the sturdiest resolve. And Hoseok would blame himself - that wasn’t a possibility, it was a certainty.

If only they could get by without having to tell him, but— no, he had to know. They couldn’t continue to keep secrets and lie to each other. They would have to tell him, and it would have to be soon.

“I should have been here,” Hyunwoo said, wrapping one arm around Kihyun’s shoulder to press him even closer to himself. “You two must have been worried, I’m sorry.”

“What matters is that you’re here now,” Kihyun said, his voice sounding damp and weak after all the crying. He held Hyunwoo’s face with both hands, gently keeping him in place so he could look into his eyes as he said, “I don’t want you to deal with this alone anymore.”

A strangled sound left Hyunwoo’s throat, an odd mixture of a whimper and a groan. “I’m so scared, Ki.”

Kihyun closed his eyes tight and embraced Hyunwoo the best he could in their position, one hand coming up to cradle the back of Hyunwoo’s head, tangle his fingers in his short hair. He didn’t want to start crying again, but before he found it in him to hold his tears back they were already falling.

“I’m scared too,” Kihyun confessed in a whisper.

They held each other and cried for what it felt like hours, and maybe that was exactly what they needed - to be there for one another, allow themselves to grieve, to be honest about how they felt instead of keeping their emotions in check. Putting on a strong face all day every day was soul-crushing; it was too much, and Kihyun was at his limit already.

He’d been so stubborn. So blind. If only he’d listened to Hyungwon’s prediction, then—

Oh. Hyungwon. ‘ _ I might just be able to help _ ,’ he’d told him.

Maybe it was time to hear what he had to say. Kihyun didn’t believe in the paranormal, but— he would do anything for Hyunwoo and Hoseok. If Hyungwon could offer some insight or a solution for their problem, then Kihyun would not dismiss his advice. No stone would be left unturned.

He would send Hyungwon a message in the morning.

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... it seems things are looking up. a little bit. 
> 
> anyways. thank you so much to everyone who's been reading and leaving comments/messages, i know these days have been Bad and that fanfic is not very high on anyone's priority list. i hope my story is at least helping you keep your mind off of things for a little while.
> 
> in other news, i have finished writing atg! yes, all chapters are written out and just in need of a few last touches, so rest assured this fic will not be dropped. we'll see this through, friends.
> 
> thanks for reading!♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ghostlike91) | [tumblr](https://ghostlike91.tumblr.com/) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ghostlike)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick disclaimer: any religious views/opinions depicted in this chapter or in any moment of this story are not a reflection of the author's (me, hi) views; this is fiction, these are fictional characters. thank you.
> 
> warning for some spooks, and guhn being a dickhole, as usual
> 
> also, this chapter is 26k words long. brace yourself.
> 
> enjoy!♡

◦

Three days into living at the mansion and Changkyun was surprised to admit that the transition had been easier and smoother than he’d anticipated. He expected to be uncomfortable and unsure for a good while - that discomfort lasted only about a day or so. Unsure as he still was, Hyungwon was making good on his word of adjusting to Changkyun’s pace and doing his very best to ensure he was taken care of.

Another thing he thought would be a problem was Guhn, but he rarely encountered him during the day; the mansion was large enough that they didn’t run into each other, and Hyungwon often asked the servants to serve their meals at a separate time and location from Guhn’s. They only had dinner together once, on Changkyun’s second night there, and it had been— awkward, but not a complete disaster. Guhn definitely didn’t like Changkyun, however, and it showed.

That was alright. The antipathy was mutual.

He also found that Hyungwon and Guhn could play nice with each other. He’d witnessed them being perfectly courteous and sometimes even sharing jokes only they understood, speaking amicably of their business, or making passing comments about an acquaintance or another. Their distaste towards each other was much more pointed, of course, but they had their moments. It was easier to understand how Hyungwon coped with sharing a living space with someone he so clearly detested - those little moments of tentative peace. Small as they were, they certainly went a long way.

Changkyun’s favorite part of it all was getting to see sides of Hyungwon and his life he hadn’t been privy to before - now he knew what Hyungwon did during his leisure time, knew what Hyungwon looked like when he woke up, his morning routine, his favorite foods, the tiny little quirks of his personality he’d never had a chance to observe. For instance, he didn’t know he liked sleeping in - or just sleeping. Hyungwon slept like the dead (no nod towards his ghosts intended). He also spent a considerable amount of time reading, or simply gazing out one of the many windows, his mind miles away. And the suspicion Changkyun had that Hyungwon had a sweet tooth proved wrong very fast - he had snacks several times throughout the day, but they were salty instead of sweet. Finger sandwiches, egg tarts, mince pies, cheese seftons. He also was fond of coffee, a source of frustration for him since it made his headaches worse if he had too much.

Hyungwon’s headaches were something Changkyun was beginning to understand better as well. While they were constant, their intensity was dictated by how long he used his abilities to communicate with spirits, and how much effort he put into it. They tended to be worse during the mornings after séance nights, although Changkyun had yet to see Hyungwon having a particularly bad migraine.

He liked to think that him being there helped; Changkyun could be loud at times, but the truth was, he was as quiet and private as Hyungwon was. He enjoyed his moments of silence and solitude - solitude that he now shared with Hyungwon. He liked being alone together with Hyungwon. Like the times when they could sit side by side, not speaking at all, and just enjoy the quiet and the company. He liked their lazy mornings, when they were awake but only barely, and simply laid there in each other’s arms with their eyes closed and their mouths shut, just listening to the birds chirping outside and the sounds of the servants starting their days downstairs. The quiet helped Hyungwon, he thought. The quiet, and the fact that Changkyun’s voice was low-pitched and deep, so it didn’t hurt Hyungwon’s ears when he spoke - Changkyun had always liked his deep voice, a trait of his he was quite proud of, but he was glad of it now for different reasons.

Despite the new environment and lifestyle, moving in with Hyungwon felt— easy. Even back when Changkyun first moved in with Jooheon there had been an adjusting period when they annoyed the living soul out of each other, until they learned how to cope with their differences and make small concessions here and there. With Hyungwon… he just slotted himself into Hyungwon’s life like he’d been there all along.

It felt eerie at times, how easy it was for them to understand each other. Hyungwon, in particular, seemed to know Changkyun better than he knew himself; he attributed that uncanny knack for reading his mind to Hyungwon’s mediunic powers, but the more time he spent around him, the more he got the impression that there was more to it than being able to speak with ghosts.

It was so incredibly strange, but also not. It felt— he didn’t even know what it felt like. It wasn’t bad, though; of that, he was certain.

And their new business arrangement was also turning out much different than what Changkyun expected. He thought Hyungwon would give him instructions regarding what he should do and how to do it, but Hyungwon— didn’t. Instead, he asked what Changkyun thought regarding every little thing, gave him complete liberty to speak his mind and share his ideas, and more often than not he would agree with whatever Changkyun had to say. When asked if he was simply doing so to encourage him, Hyungwon said he wouldn’t do that; that was business, and he didn’t play around with business.

“I didn’t offer you this job to patronize you,” Hyungwon had told him. “Your thought process and creativity are very unique and much different from my own. If you have an idea that I don’t like, I will tell you so; as it is, all your ideas so far have been interesting and I think we should give them all a try to see how feasible they are in practice.”

That had knocked down Changkyun’s insecurities entirely.

One of Changkyun’s ideas was to survey the areas and houses where Hyungwon’s séances would take place, to get an idea of the layout and if there were any spots for him to hide. At the heart of it, it wasn’t that much different from breaking into someone’s home to steal from them. The difference was that he wouldn’t take anything; he would just scare the life out of them and leave.

Hyungwon thought that was an excellent idea, and Changkyun had spent the better part of that afternoon in the city, visiting a couple of the places listed on Hyungwon’s schedule of sessions for the coming week. He looked around the houses and the neighborhoods, took some notes regarding the architecture of the houses themselves and their yards, found good access points and hiding spots, and returned to the mansion just a little while after sunset. He arrived with enough time to spare to take a bath before supper - he might convince Hyungwon to join him, even.

His first destination upon arriving, he’d decided while still in the carriage, would be their room - the adjacent bedroom had been finished the day prior for Changkyun to move in, finally, and it was  _ so _ much better than the guest room.

First off, because Hyungwon was right there and neither of them had to sneak around to visit each other during the night; second, Hyungwon’s room was isolated and private, which made it that much easier to relax, and it was comforting both for the simple decoration and because it smelled familiar; and third, Changkyun could have his own room, just across the bathroom, but it had been an unspoken agreement from the start that his room served more as a place where he could store his belongings instead of his bedroom proper - Changkyun slept in Hyungwon’s bed— or rather,  _ their _ bed now.

It always made him feel giddy like a schoolboy whenever he thought of anything as ‘theirs’.

He made his way up the main stairs, decided on leaving the notepad with his observations and ideas in their room, where they would be safe, before he went around searching for Hyungwon. If he wasn’t in their bedroom, a safe bet would be his study upstairs. He hoped he’d find him in one of those two places - he’d been walking around all day, he didn’t want to do even more walking.

As he was about halfway up the stairs, Changkyun stopped. There was a shift in the air, a slight change in temperature. It raised the hairs on the back of his neck, gave him a feeling of— company. He looked around, searching for any signs there was someone else there, perhaps a servant walking by, but the foyer behind him was empty, as was the landing before him. Odd, but stranger things had happened. He continued on his way.

The second floor was quiet and still, indicating the high possibility that neither Hyungwon or Guhn were around. There was no light spilling from under the door to Guhn’s study, which supported his assumption, and if Hyungwon was there, then he wasn’t in any of the reading rooms - all of them were dark, at least. Quiet as Hyungwon was, though, he wouldn’t write off the chance he was in their room just yet; he could be taking a nap. Hyungwon being asleep was not exactly rare, so he soldiered on in his hope he was in their room. He felt much too lazy to go on a manhunt around that giant mansion.

He swiftly crossed the landing and reached the rotunda, turning towards the corridor that led to their door and, again, he paused. The atmosphere felt strange there. Colder, heavier. It didn’t help that the windows along the dimly lit hallway before him were open and the light white curtains were fluttering in the wind, their movements languid and almost ghostlike.

Changkyun hesitated for only a moment before he continued walking, doing his best to ignore that sensation of  _ wrong _ that had settled over him. He was never one to get scared easily - he was a rational man, skeptical, no matter how Hyungwon was opening his mind to the supernatural bit by bit. Spooky situations had never been very high on his list of things to be concerned about, and that, so far, hadn't changed; all it did was cause him to walk with a bit more caution, pay a bit more attention to his surroundings.

Those fluttering curtains didn’t help. It was like someone would jump out from behind them any second.

He took his keys from his pocket long before he reached the room, not wanting to spend a second longer than necessary out there, and the relief he felt when he closed the door behind himself was so grand he almost felt silly. It was just a creepy hallway. No need to react like that over a creepy hallway.

Feeling much better inside their room - empty of Hyungwon’s presence - Changkyun heaved a pleased sigh and shuffled towards the bathroom, and, subsequently, the adjacent bedroom, where he would leave his coat and his notepad - he would have just tossed them anywhere, but he’d  _ just _ moved in. Best to wait a while longer to let his messy self run amok, if only for the sake of keeping up the pretense of humbleness.

His room was simple but elegant, every piece of furniture brand new and obviously expensive - despite that room being only for show, Hyungwon didn’t hold back with making sure Changkyun had only the very best of everything and anything. It made him feel bad, but his vanity was much more pointed by then than guilt was; it was his money too, now. Technically. He would have made pricey purchases in Hyungwon’s place if he’d had the option to do so while the room was being redecorated, thus he didn’t have the right to whine about his lover spending too much. Maybe he would be a bit justified if Hyungwon’s choices weren’t to his liking, but every single item there was  _ exactly _ to his taste.

One of the perks of having a psychic boyfriend, he figured.

He hung his coat - brand new, one of the few results of his appointment with the tailor on his first day there - inside the large armoire, alongside his other, lesser quality coats. Such a screaming contrast they made, all hanging side by side. Old life, new life.

His notepad he left inside the drawer of the desk nearby. Hyungwon had asked him if he wanted to claim a room to use as a personal office, something he had refused - if he was to have a room for himself to never sleep in, he could use it as his office. It was a good room and it was  _ right there _ , near Hyungwon, next to their bedroom. Being a night owl as he was, the proximity also came in handy if he ever wanted to work late; he could focus on his work and watch over his lover’s slumber at the same time.

Those two tasks completed, Changkyun made his way back through the bathroom to Hyungwon’s room. Hyungwon wasn’t anywhere in their chambers, which meant Changkyun would have to go out searching, and his first destination would be his study upstairs. If he was not there either, then— who knows, really. He was tired just thinking about walking up and down the mansion looking for him.

Oh, the things he would do for love.

He stopped in his tracks when he noticed something atop the drawer, amongst Hyungwon’s collection of mourning jewelry.

The scorpion cameo.

Just sitting there, in its stand, looking innocent and harmless.

Hyungwon had been wearing it less, at least while inside the mansion for Changkyun’s peace of mind, but he would still wear it whenever he had to go out almost religiously. Even looking at the damn thing in the stand, Changkyun could tell Hyungwon had been careful when putting it there - the black satin lace was smooth, not twisted at any point of its length, and the pendant itself was in the very center of the stand, something that could only be done deliberately. It grated at him how careful Hyungwon was with that thing.

He should hide it. He could. He could easily pin the blame on one of the servants - there was this maid that always gave him the evil eye, she would be a good enough scapegoat. Yes, he could take the necklace and throw it in the stream by the gazebo. Hyungwon would be upset, but if it was just a necklace as he said it was, then he would get over it.

He wouldn’t, though. It was a terrible plan. A breach in their trust, truly - it had ‘unspeakable sentimental value’ to Hyungwon, after all, and getting rid of the necklace could even mean the end of their relationship. He felt awful just thinking about it, but  _ oh _ , how he wanted that thing gone.

He stepped closer to the drawer, glaring at the pendant as if by doing so he would make it magically disappear. How ridiculous it was, to be so jealous of an inanimate object, but it always made him feel small, unimportant in comparison. Like Hyungwon would never love him as much as he loved the person whose bones that pendant was made from - sometimes, in his darkest moments, he felt as if Hyungwon was still in love with that someone. That woman. What was she like, he wondered. Did she look like Changkyun or were they very different? Had she been kind? Funny? Did she love Hyungwon like Changkyun did or more? Less? Not at all?

Was she better than him in any way? In every way?

If he asked Hyungwon about her, would he tell him?

Did he even want to know?

Changkyun reached out, a motion he didn’t plan or notice - it just happened. He’d never touched the pendant before, avoided it at all costs, but something inside him was telling him that he should. And why not? It was just a pendant. Just bones. It couldn’t hurt him; not physically, at least.

Just as he was about to touch the cameo, he heard something outside in the corridor and jumped, hiding his hand behind his back like a child caught doing mischief would, his heart almost beating out of his chest with shock. He waited, expecting to see Hyungwon coming in through the door, but nothing happened. The sound of his pounding heart was all he could hear. Had he imagined it? He was certain, though, he had heard a noise, something that sounded a lot like—

A voice. This time he heard it clear as day.

He couldn’t make out what it said, but it had the inflection of someone trying to get his attention. He looked around. Nobody. No, there would be nobody in there - the sound had come from outside. He inched his way towards the door, cautious like a cat, ears intent on listening to any other sound. He heard nothing.

He must have imagined it. Thinking about ghosts and dead past lovers was messing with his mind.

Still, he was careful when he opened the door and stepped outside. He looked to one side of the corridor, to the wall at the end of it, and then to the other side, towards the rotunda. Nothing. Just him and the fluttering curtains. 

That creepy mansion was driving him mad and he’d only been there for about three days. He shook his head, told himself in thoughts to get a grip on reality, and turned around to lock the door to their bedroom. The stress of moving, his new business with Hyungwon, everything that was happening between him and Jooheon, those were just making him susceptible to an overactive imagination. He was just on edge, nothing else. 

He’d just turned the key in the lock when another noise made him jump, but, this time, when he looked towards the rotunda, he caught sight of something - someone. As they were already high on the spiral stairs, he could only see their feet - or rather, the bottom of a white dress, and Changkyun breathed a sigh of relief. It was probably Kyla taking some tea to Hyungwon. He was spooking himself for no reason.

Of course, Kyla and the other women in the kitchen had uniforms and they were not white, but who else could it be?

He hurried after her, shoving his keys in the back pocket of his trousers as he sped-walk towards the stairs. By then she was out of sight, so Changkyun climbed the stairs two steps at a time to try to catch up. She might need help to open the door if she was carrying a tray; Kyla had been kind enough to him since they met that being kind to her in return was something he felt bound to do, not out of obligation, but for being thankful.

Upon reaching the landing, he spotted her again. He only saw her back as she turned the corner, going towards Hyungwon’s study, and he was now certain that wasn’t Kyla - her hair, black and lustrous, was much longer than Kyla’s, going far below her waist. He’d never seen hair so long before, not in person. The top half of it was tied up in an intricate braid, a red ribbon woven through it, all of it held in place by a single hairpin. That hairdo was also not something he’d ever seen.

And yet— 

It felt familiar.

His steps faltered for a second, confusion and shock hitting him like a boulder. There was something in him screaming for him to chase her, try to talk to her, but everything was happening so fast he could barely catch his bearings. He recovered just enough to continue following her out of the rotunda and into the hallway, and there he froze again.

She was gone. The door to Hyungwon’s study was closed, as was the door that led to the room they used for storage. The corridor was empty.

Gone.

Had he seen a ghost? No, that would be insane. He was tired and stressed and imagining things. Certainly, there was a logical explanation for it. There had to be.

He didn’t have time to ponder over that strange encounter. He could hear voices coming from Hyungwon’s study, muffled from that distance, but he could tell it was Guhn. And he wasn’t happy.

Changkyun crept up the hallway, step after quiet step, making sure to keep close to the wall. He didn’t want to make it a habit out of listening in on Hyungwon’s conversations, but he’d decided long ago that certain things he would have to piece together on his own if he wanted answers - the nature of Guhn and Hyungwon’s relationship, their contract, for example, was something Hyungwon didn’t talk about at all, and Changkyun desperately wished to learn more. If Hyungwon wouldn’t offer the answers freely, then Changkyun had no choice but to eavesdrop.

Guhn was raving about something he couldn’t make out, and only when he was with his ear close to the door was that he managed to hear what was being said more clearly.

“What do you think you're doing?" was the first thing he heard Guhn say.

"I don't think I'm doing anything," he heard Hyungwon reply.

"You don't  _ need _ an assistant."

Oh, so this was about him. Changkyun only became more interested in the conversation.

"And you don't need a house as big as this, but you still wanted it." Hyungwon’s sassy response made Changkyun smile. That feisty lover of his.

"I know you snuck into his room every night before he moved into your ‘spare’ room, do you think I'm blind?"

"I do have to wonder why you keep such a close eye on my relationship with Changkyun. It doesn’t sound like proper behavior for a gentleman."

"Who are you to speak to me of gentlemen?” Guhn’s voice became louder, on the verge of downright shouting. “You have been sloppy, distracted, you spend all of your time attached to your so-called assistant, you're supposed to be working for me!"

Hyungwon scoffed. "Please. We made a deal, and I'm still holding up my end of it. In fact, I thought you’d be glad for the change - my sessions will turn much more profitable for you. Isn’t that what you want?”

"I don’t see how screwing around with a street rat would bring any profit to me or anyone else."

Changkyun bit the inside of his lips, closed his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. He wanted to barge in and defend Hyungwon, defend their relationship. He held back. Giving in to his anger wouldn’t help their cause, on the contrary - it would only give Guhn more reason to complain, to want Hyungwon to throw Changkyun out.

It was hard, but he stayed put.

There was a long pause and, when Hyungwon finally spoke again, his voice had become lower, more dangerous, threatening. "Firstly, whom I choose to ‘screw around’ with is none of your business. Secondly, you should be careful about how you speak of him. My tolerance only goes so far."

Guhn took a heartbeat to respond. Changkyun wanted to believe Hyungwon managed to intimidate him somehow.

"Get rid of him or I will."

"Are you sure you want to go there?” Hyungwon’s voice became even more dangerous, enough that even Changkyun felt a small sting of fear. “I just told you my tolerance has a limit. If you even  _ look _ at him with ill intentions, I'll make it so you pay for it for the rest of your short, worthless life."

The words paired with Hyungwon’s voice tone sent a shiver down his spine. He’d never heard him this angry; he was always so calm, so collected. He’d witnessed Hyungwon being upset before, but this— this was something else. It opened the door to a whole new side of Hyungwon Changkyun never knew existed, and… well. It was quite appealing.

He knew Hyungwon could talk his way out of difficult situations, knew he was quite adept in the art of verbal battles, but he never knew Hyungwon could downright threaten someone like that, and Hyungwon didn’t make empty threats. If he said he would make Guhn pay, there was not a doubt in his mind that Hyungwon would find a way to make it happen.

He never knew Hyungwon could sound—  _ be _ dangerous. But he was.

He was.

"I had to lose everything for you to lift a finger for me, and that rat comes along and you give him the world for free!?" Guhn shouted.

"Nothing is free. Some people just have to pay less than others.” Hyungwon’s voice had gone back to its normal tone, so fast it gave Changkyun whiplash. “And let us be honest, Charles: you never  _ had _ to lose anything.” He heard footsteps. Hyungwon walking away? “You did so out of a choice you made all on your own, so don’t blame me for your decisions. The only one to blame here is yourself."

He heard the sound of a chair being pushed out the way and a set of heavier footsteps. “How dare you—”

Changkyun decided to intervene before the situation escalated further, before Hyungwon suffered any physical reprimand, and judging from the scene he found upon flinging the door of the study open, he wasn’t too far off - Hyungwon was cornered between his cabinet of medicine and the tarot table, and Guhn was well into his personal space, face splotched red with rage and frustration, his gloved hands balled into fists.

“What’s going on here?” Changkyun demanded. Hyungwon looked over at him and smiled, seemingly not at all rattled, while Guhn glared at him as if he wished Changkyun to drop dead with the strength of his gaze alone.

“Nothing is going on. Charles was just leaving,” Hyungwon said and looked pointedly at Guhn, who, after hesitating for a split second, stepped away from Hyungwon and marched out of the study.

He made sure to shove Changkyun out of the way when he passed him, almost causing him to lose his balance, and once he was well across the hallway, Changkyun closed the door of the study. He made a point to slam it as hard as he could, so Guhn would hear it and take it as a statement not to come back.

Only then did he turn and rushed to Hyungwon’s side, already looking at him up and down in search of injuries before even reaching him. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

Hyungwon, who had moved from where he’d been standing to the other side of the table, closer to Changkyun, merely shook his head and smiled. “No, he didn’t.”

“I really can’t be gone for five minutes,” Changkyun grumbled as he wrapped Hyungwon in a protective hug, hearing him laugh in response. He pressed a kiss under Hyungwon’s ear, just next to his jaw, and said, “I can’t believe you defended me like that.”

“I would have gone further if I had to,” Hyungwon said, his voice controlled now in a way that it was close to a whisper but not quite. He had his arms around him just as tight. “He has no right to threaten you or use you to threaten me, I won’t allow it.”

“You sounded so dangerous,” Changkyun commented, only half teasing, as he pushed Hyungwon gently against the table until he was partially sitting on the edge, all just so he lodge himself between his legs and press their upper bodies as close as possible. “Do you have any idea how attractive you sounded?”

“You are a very strange man,” Hyungwon said, laughing under his breath despite readily allowing Changkyun to do as he pleased, not a hint of resistance. “Didn’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop?”

“As if you didn’t know I was there from the very start,” Changkyun pointed out, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to Hyungwon’s cheek, one of his hands moving to cover the other side of his face.

He pulled back just enough to peer up at Hyungwon, his eyes lingering for just a heartbeat on each of his features, trying to figure out how did he get so lucky to have a lover like him. And it wasn’t just about the looks - Hyungwon was handsome, yes, but Changkyun felt lucky mostly because Hyungwon was— well. The way he was.

Hyungwon was… easy, in the way that he made everything feel natural. They could talk about everything or nothing at all, any arguments or disagreements they had were solved quickly, and they had an understanding of each other so deep sometimes Changkyun wondered if they had a sort of telepathy between them. One look and they could decipher a thousand words; he didn’t know such a thing was possible, to be so attuned to another person to the point of knowing what they’re feeling on instinct alone.

It wasn’t anything supernatural, though, and Changkyun was aware of it. They just had this strange familiarity with each other, the same sort of familiarity Changkyun shared with Jooheon, for example. The understanding of two people who have known each other for many years.

The only odd thing about it is that he’d only known Hyungwon for a few short months, which made it difficult to explain or rationalize their familiarity.

Hyungwon was watching Changkyun watching him with a tiny hitch of confusion between his brows, and after nudging Changkyun’s nose with his own he asked, “What is it? Something on my face?”

Changkyun shook his head briefly in response. “I just love that you’re mine. I love that you have no reservations about admitting that you’re mine to whoever questions it.”

Hyungwon cocked his head to the side, still looking mildly bemused by Changkyun’s words even if there was some understanding in his expression - he knew what he was referring to. “Why would I deny such a fundamental truth?”

A self-satisfied smile crept up Changkyun’s features. “See? Like that,” he murmured against Hyungwon’s lips before initiating a kiss as possessive as his grip on his hips, an unspoken declaration that said ‘you are mine and mine alone’. He knew Hyungwon would interpret it as such, that he would understand exactly the thought he was trying to express, and his response to it was to let Changkyun make his statement, accept it in the form of parting his lips, arching his back, pulling him closer.

It was always like that, it seemed - Changkyun took and took and Hyungwon let him take it all, but by taking he was also giving, and it was a strange paradox to be caught in but it— worked. Somehow, it worked. They worked.

He unceremoniously untucked Hyungwon’s pristine white shirt from his pants, feeling goosebumps rising on his skin under his fingertips when he slithered his hands under the fabric, and parted their kiss just to whisper, “I want you.”

Hyungwon chuckled. “Mhm, I can tell.”

Changkyun couldn’t filter his thoughts before they reached his mouth, so he blurted out, “I want you on his bed.”

Hyungwon choked briefly and laughed out loud at that and, instead of taking it as an attempt of seduction as he was supposed to, he pinched his cheeks, kissed the tip of his nose, and said, “I love you. I love you completely, down to every last hateful, spiteful, rotten part of you.”

Changkyun scrunched up his nose and pouted, unhappy with the change in the tone of the moment. Trying to get it back, he trailed kisses from Hyungwon’s lips over his cheek all the way to his ear to whisper in the lowest, sultriest tone he could muster, “The hateful, spiteful, rotten part of me wants you to scream my name into his pillows, loud enough that your voice echoes in his ears as he sleeps and not even in slumber he forgets that you’re mine.”

He could feel a small puff of warm air escape Hyungwon’s parted lips, could feel how he pressed him just the littlest bit closer, and that was enough for Changkyun to know he had hit the mark. Hyungwon’s self-control was a tough one to break, however. “While I would love nothing more than to indulge this desire of yours, you’re forgetting a small detail.”

Changkyun closed his eyes and counted to ten in his mind. “Which is?”

“He keeps his bedroom locked and we don’t have access to the key.”

“I can break in,” he offered. It was a lost battle already, but he was a persistent man.

Hyungwon kissed the corner of his mouth. “You can, but you won’t.”

Changkyun groaned with frustration, his head dropping to rest on Hyungwon’s shoulder. “Why must you be so rational in a moment like this?”

Hyungwon, damn him, laughed. “One of us has to be, imagine the amount of trouble we’d get ourselves into if I didn’t.”

“I hate you, sometimes,” Changkyun said in a whiny voice and, again, Hyungwon laughed.

“No, you don’t.”

He forced himself to sober up, aware that Hyungwon was stopping him because the door, while closed, was not locked - if a servant entered the room, there was no way of knowing how long would it take for the nature of their relationship to be exposed. The maids weren’t trustworthy, not like the kitchen staff was, and that was a stupid risk to take. They could continue what they started once they were in the safe confines of their bedroom.

“You’re right,” Changkyun granted then sighed, pulling back just enough that he could look up to meet Hyungwon’s eyes. “He didn’t bother you during the afternoon, did he?”

Hyungwon shook his head and gave him a reassuring smile. “He was busy this afternoon. Something regarding his accountant, they spent most of the day tucked away in his office discussing finances. Whatever it was must have made him quite upset - I think he was only here to let out his frustrations on me.”

“Alright, knowing that this was all that happened makes me feel better,” he admitted, bringing one hand up to brush a stray lock of hair that had been obstructing Hyungwon’s eyes. His hair had grown so much during the few months they’d known each other; it felt like an eternity ago that Changkyun accidentally locked himself in a small room with the owner of the house he’d been trying to rob. And now there they were. It was surreal. “Besides Guhn being an ass, how was your day? Did you miss me very much?”

“I’ve missed you terribly,” Hyungwon said, half joking, half serious. “And my day was quite productive. In fact, I have some business to see to in the morning, so if you plan on going to the city tomorrow, we can go together.”

Changkyun’s curiosity immediately elbowed him in the ribs for him to say, “May I ask what business that is?”

“It’s a— long term investment,” Hyungwon said after a moment’s thought. “I have offered my services as a medium to aid an acquaintance.”

Changkyun frowned. “How is that an investment?”

“It’s an investment for  _ him _ ,” Hyungwon clarified. “His lovers are ill.”

Changkyun’s brain came to a sudden halt. “Wait,  _ lovers _ ? Plural?”

Hyungwon chuckled and agreed with a nod. “Yes, plural. He has two partners, both of which are afflicted with consumption.”

“Oh,” he breathed out the word and ducked his head. “That— that is certainly an alarming amount of bad luck.”

“Indeed,” Hyungwon agreed, tone turning somber. “You can see why I feel inclined to help.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what this man must be going through,” Changkyun commented, subconsciously tightening his grip on Hyungwon. “One lover being ill would be bad enough, but  _ two _ —” He trailed off and looked up at Hyungwon. “How does someone get  _ two _ lovers, anyway?”

Hyungwon seemed amused by the question, even if his eyes still held some sadness for the entire situation. “I won’t share the details as it is not my story to tell. What I can tell you is that the three of them grew up together and their relationship evolved quite naturally through the years.”

“What a strange arrangement,” he mused. “Are the three of them men?”

“Yes.”

“So— three men who have a romantic relationship with each other, and two of them are sick?” Changkyun recited the facts and laughed to himself without a hint of mirth. “My, everything about this is unreal.” Then, with a teasing smirk on his lips, he added, “Although the thought of having two of you is quite appealing.”

Hyungwon snorted at his comment. “Well, having two of you would only serve to make my headaches exponentially worse.”

“Shush, you’d love it,” Changkyun said and poked him on the side before stepping away. “I was thinking of taking a bath before supper. Want to join me?”

“Mhm, I’d like that,” Hyungwon agreed with ease and pushed himself away from his desk to follow Changkyun out of the study. “You never mentioned how your scouting mission went.”

Changkyun stopped by the door to wait for Hyungwon to lock his office, leaning sideways against the wall. “It was alright. I can show you my notes later, there are some things we can definitely use to our advantage.”

“I trust your judgment on this,” Hyungwon said, his sentence punctuated by the sound of the keys turning and the lock latching shut. “Scouring people’s houses for the best access point is not exactly my area of expertise.”

“Good thing you have me,” Changkyun said jokingly, and, together, they continued on their way back to their room.

As they were beginning to descend the stairs in the rotunda, Changkyun was reminded of his odd experience when he arrived at the mansion earlier; he was certain it was all his mind playing tricks on him, his imagination fueled by the eerie atmosphere of the mansion, but asking couldn’t hurt.

“Won?” he called quietly.

“Yes?”

“Is—” Changkyun started, but felt foolish and hesitated for a few moments before concluding his question. “Is this place haunted?”

Hyungwon looked at him over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “What a silly thing to ask.” The comment caused Changkyun’s cheeks to heat up, but before any shame could properly set in, Hyungwon added, “Of course it is.”

It was good that they were out of the stairs at that point, because Changkyun tripped on his own feet. “What!?”

Hyungwon looked annoyingly amused. “If you think about it, there is hardly any place on earth that  _ isn’t _ haunted. We stand atop the ashes of several civilizations, uncountable generations, history we can’t even begin to fathom. Some places are simply more—  _ alive _ than others.”

That didn’t really answer his question, but oh, was it enough to unnerve him. Trying to maintain a smidge of his composure, he asked, “And how ‘alive’ is this place, in particular?”

Hyungwon hummed, eyes rolling up to the ceiling as he considered the question. “I suppose it depends on your perception of the supernatural.”

“How so?”

“Take me, for example—”

“Oh, I do plan on taking you.”

Hyungwon vehemently ignored Changkyun’s poorly-timed quip and continued talking as if he hadn’t spoken at all. “For me, everywhere is equally as active, even though some places are—  _ louder _ than others. Guhn, on the other hand, is completely numb to the other side. A ghost could be shouting obscenities in his ear and jumping up and down, and he would feel nothing, notice nothing.”

“And what about me?” Changkyun asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer. He’d gotten that far, though - might as well get to the end of it.

Hyungwon looked down at him, eyes sparkling with something Changkyun couldn’t quite interpret. When they stopped in front of the door to their room, Hyungwon said, “You’ve seen something, haven’t you?”

Changkyun was not at all surprised that Hyungwon was able to figure out the root of his questions, but it still made him feel strange to admit such things out loud. He averted his gaze to the floor and rolled one shoulder, an action that vaguely resembled a shrug. “I’m not sure what it was. It might have been my imagination.”

“Is that what you think it was?” Hyungwon asked as he unlocked the door. “Your imagination?”

“I— have no idea,” he admitted in response, stepping inside once Hyungwon opened the door and motioned for him to enter first. “There’s something about this place that makes me feel— I don’t know. It’s like I’m never alone, here.”

Hyungwon closed and locked the door behind them, leaving his bundle of keys on top of a dresser before he made his way to Changkyun with a pensive expression on his face. “And you attribute that feeling to an overactive imagination?”

Changkyun shrugged again, this time properly, with both shoulders. The motion must have looked as helpless as he felt. “I have not the first clue what to attribute it to.” He licked his lips nervously and looked up to lock his eyes with Hyungwon’s, who had gotten very close to him while he was distracted. “You can hear ghosts, but you never mentioned if you can see them.”

Hyungwon blinked and tilted his head to the side, considering the words for a moment. “See them— yes, I do see them, sometimes. My abilities are more of the auditory sort, but there are times when I can catch a glimpse of spirits. Some are clearer than others, although I cannot say for certain why that is.” Reaching out a hand to take Changkyun’s, he asked, “What did you see?”

“A woman, I think,” Changkyun said, his voice so low that Hyungwon had to come even closer to hear him. “I couldn’t see her face, I just saw long black hair and a white dress.”

“Where did you see this woman?”

“I was leaving our room after I dropped off my belongings, and as I was locking the door I heard footsteps in the rotunda. I looked over and saw someone climbing up the stairs,” he relayed his tale, trying his best to keep it concise despite how surreal the event was in reality. He omitted the finer details, for— whatever reasons. It didn’t feel important. “I thought it could be Kyla bringing you tea, so I hurried after her to help, and once I reached the third floor I saw just the back of a woman turning the corner to go to your study. I ran to the hallway just one second later— there was nobody.”

“I see,” Hyungwon murmured and gathered Changkyun in a tight embrace, likely for sensing his distress. “I know it might not be enough to ease your mind, but what you saw can’t hurt you.”

Changkyun huffed, leaning his head on Hyungwon’s shoulder and closing his eyes. “It can still scare the life out of me.”

Hyungwon’s breathy giggle next to his ear made him shiver. “I suppose it can. When that happens, you know you can come to me, right? I’m no fighter, but I can at least keep you safe from bothersome spirits.”

“I know,” he said. As they were on that topic, Changkyun figured he might as well air out another one of his concerns. “What about dreams?”

“Dreams?” Hyungwon echoed, sounding confused.

“Remember when we talked about our past lives?” Changkyun asked, to which Hyungwon nodded to confirm that, yes, he remembered. “Ever since then, I’ve been having these vivid dreams.”

There was a pause, one or two seconds long, before Hyungwon asked, “What are the dreams about?”

“I’m not sure. I can’t  _ see _ much, some flashes of color here and there, but the feelings I get from them are— so intense and so real,” he said, dread gripping his heart at the mere mention of the dreams. “I feel scared, terrified, and everything feels urgent, and then I—” he stopped himself, one hand instinctively coming up to cover his own throat.

Hyungwon went stiff in his arms, barely breathing as he looked down at him. When he spoke, his voice sounded frail enough to crack as if it were glass. “Are these dreams frequent?”

“Frequent enough,” Changkyun answered. “It happens every other night.”

“I— I’m sorry,” Hyungwon said, and the clear distress in his tone caused Changkyun to look up at him with mild alarm. “I feel responsible for this somehow, I— I didn’t know the topic would have such an impact on you.”

“Won, it’s not your fault—”

“I can think of a few things I can do to help,” he continued. “I have some tea and herbs to help you sleep if you need it, and I can—”

“Easy, baby,” Changkyun said, cupping Hyungwon’s face to get him to focus on him for a moment. Hyungwon did so despite still looking upset. “I didn’t tell you this to blame you or make you feel bad, this isn’t your fault. I only wanted to know if this is something I should be concerned about, if it’ll go away with time, that’s all.”

Hyungwon took a deep breath, his entire frame expanding with the intake of oxygen. “I’m sorry,” he said as he exhaled. “I— If I’d known speaking of past-lives would cause you distress I wouldn’t have mentioned it at all.”

“I know,” Changkyun said, kissing Hyungwon’s lips briefly in an attempt of distracting him. It worked, a little. He smiled at his lover to reassure him further. “It hasn’t been too bad lately, now that I don’t have to sleep alone.”

Some of the tension bled out of Hyungwon and he managed a small smile upon hearing Changkyun’s words. “Next time it happens, tell me. Even if I’m asleep, wake me up to let me know.”

“I will,” he promised. Hyungwon still appeared shaken, yet adamant in pretending he was alright; it was both endearing and concerning, but Changkyun decided to play along and move on to a different topic. “What time is your meeting tomorrow?”

“Around mid-morning,” Hyungwon said. Changkyun took his hand and tugged it gently, coaxing him towards the bathroom.

“I’ll join you, then,” he said. “We could have lunch somewhere, even. And it’s a good chance to gather the rest of my belongings from the apartment.”

“It might be a good opportunity to visit your friend.”

Changkyun’s steps faltered and he stopped walking altogether, guilt coiling inside him. He had been avoiding thinking too much of Jooheon, telling himself that Jooheon was stubborn and could keep grudges, but that it would be alright after some time. It hadn’t been long enough for him to cool off, and seeing him while he was still mad—

“I don’t know,” Changkyun mumbled. “He was very upset the last time I saw him.”

“All the more reason for you to go see him,” Hyungwon said, taking upon himself the task to guide Changkyun to the bathroom once it was clear he didn’t plan on moving on his own. “I know how much you’ve been hurting over this.”

“He’s my best friend,” Changkyun said, as if that wasn’t already obvious. “It’s rare for us to fight, but when we do, Jooheon takes a while to come around.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t try fixing things before that,” Hyungwon said wisely, beginning to unbutton Changkyun’s brand new waistcoat. His hands were shaking, Changkyun didn’t fail to notice. He made no comment. “You should make an effort to try to reach him soon, before he takes your silence as yet another sign you are pulling away from him and your friendship.”

“You’re probably right,” Changkyun agreed, watching Hyungwon’s nimble fingers work the buttons open - even trembling, there was a certain grace to his movements, something that captivated Changkyun’s attention. “He thinks you’re stealing me.”

Hyungwon chuckled mirthlessly. “I am aware. I know I’m creating a rift between you, no matter how that was never my intention. I don’t want to isolate you from every person in your life.” He paused then, considering, and added, “Well, maybe a  _ little _ bit.” The admission made Changkyun smile. “As nice it would be to have you all to myself, your friendship with Jooheon is important.”

Changkyun nodded lifelessly, turning over the thoughts in his mind as Hyungwon finished opening his waistcoat. He thought he’d push it down his shoulders, but he simply began working on the buttons of his shirt next, quiet and unhurried to give Changkyun a moment to think. He was glad for the respite.

And yes, as usual, Hyungwon was right. It was easy to forget the world when they were together, place themselves inside a bubble and block out everything else, but— his friendship with Jooheon was as important as his relationship with Hyungwon. The love he had for each of them was different, but he loved them both. Jooheon had been by his side through so much, almost his entire life, and to neglect their friendship because Changkyun found himself a lover was not alright.

And he’d done so - neglect Jooheon, that is. Guilt twisted uncomfortably in his stomach as he recalled every time he ran off to chase after Hyungwon and left Jooheon behind to deal with his problems by himself. He didn’t even know if Jooheon  _ had _ any problems lately. Not even what was going on between him and Minhyuk, which only emphasized the fact that Changkyun had been a terrible friend; knowing Jooheon as well as he did, Changkyun was certain Jooheon had one or a thousand things to say about Minhyuk, and some of them undoubtedly hurt.

And Changkyun wasn’t there to listen to him.

It didn’t help that Jooheon had an aversion to Hyungwon that went beyond a simple dislike. He feared him, envied him, but, most of all, he didn’t understand Hyungwon. Maybe if he did, then—

“Can I invite Jooheon over some time?” Changkyun asked and broke the silence that had settled in the bathroom, his shirt now fully open as Hyungwon had finished that task while he was distracted.

Hyungwon looked back at him from where he’d been preparing their bath; he must have been turned very deeply inwards not to notice when Hyungwon stepped away. The air was already starting to smell like flowers. “Of course you can,” he said. “I’d advise doing so on a day Guhn isn’t around to avoid any unpleasantness, but Jooheon is welcome here if he ever wishes to visit.”

“Thank you, Won,” Changkyun said, stepping closer to Hyungwon to hug him from the back and then press a kiss to his nape. “I’ll try talking to him tomorrow.”

◦ ◦ ◦

For all that Kihyun was nervous, he could at least rejoice in Hyungwon’s strange choice for the location of their meeting - the grand cathedral by the plaza, right at the heart of the city. He’d never heard of any such encounters happening inside churches before, especially not to talk of matters involving spiritualism. In fact, Kihyun was fairly certain it would be sacrilege to discuss such matters there, as there were more conservative Christians that still believed spiritualism was simply witchcraft called by a different name. Kihyun personally didn’t think much of it - he’d been around and witnessed uncommon religious practices around the world in his travels and, while he was on the fence on whether he believed in spirits or not, he knew how to keep an open mind.

Besides, Hyungwon never appeared to be particularly pious or strict regarding spiritualism; his beliefs seemed loose and scattered, difficult to quite pin down from the few interactions he’d had with him. Medium or not, Hyungwon seemed— reasonable. He likely had a good reason for choosing that particular place, instead of the simple desire for ruffling people’s feathers. 

Kihyun had arrived early, almost one hour before the time they had agreed upon, for two reasons: one, he would not have been able to sit still if he’d stayed home, too anxious about his meeting to wait; and two, it was a good opportunity to light one candle for Hyunwoo and one for Hoseok, and pray for their recovery. Kihyun’s faith was not what it used to be - he’d never been very religious despite having been raised catholic, and with the sour hand the universe had dealt him and his lovers, having faith in a higher power was— it was difficult. He went back and forth, some days believing God had a plan for them, other days certain there was no God and humanity had been long forsaken and left to suffer. There were days he thought they were being punished for their sins and their indecent lifestyle, and there were days he thought it was all a coincidence, a string of epic bad luck.

He prayed, sometimes. In his head, under his breath, at random moments of the day; sometimes when he looked at Hoseok, sometimes before he fell asleep. When he woke up. Before a business meeting.

Being inside a church, though… it had been a while.

There was something soothing about churches. Kihyun felt at ease inside that cathedral, watching the sunbeams shining through the stained-glass windows and creating colorful shapes on the marble floor, the smell of burning candles and incense stirring up feelings of nostalgia in him, memories from when he was very small and used to accompany his mother to mass every Sunday.

The cathedral was nearly empty at that hour; there was no mass that day, in the middle of the week, and other than Kihyun, there was only an elderly woman sitting at the very first row of pews, far away from where he was. He’d chosen to sit more to the back and closer to the wall, figuring it would be harder for someone to eavesdrop on his conversation with Hyungwon there, although the acoustics inside that place were incredible. Again, he had to wonder at the reasoning behind that choice.

It didn’t matter, in the end, where they met; all Kihyun wanted was answers, maybe a positive prediction of their future. He wasn’t sure what to expect, what Hyungwon could possibly do for him or his lovers, but he wanted to hang on to the hope that Hyungwon, with his vast knowledge of the occult, could point him towards a solution he hadn’t considered before, a hidden path to safety through the treacherous woods he needed to escape from.

How strange would it be if Hyungwon offered to cast spells to cure tuberculosis. If he suggested exorcisms to get rid of any ailments of the soul that could be causing the illness. Would he ask Kihyun to perform a ritual with him? Dance naked under the moonlight? Now his thoughts were just mocking him, because any of those options sounded ludicrous even without saying them out loud.

They also painted a pathetic picture of just how little Kihyun understood of spiritualism and mediums. And witchcraft, for that matter.

Hyungwon entered the cathedral about fifteen minutes earlier than they had agreed, something for which Kihyun was grateful - he felt so anxious about that meeting he was about to crawl out of his skin with jitters. Hyungwon spotted him easily and made his way over without preamble, carrying himself in that dainty, arrogant way he did. The ‘rich people way’ of walking, as Hyunwoo often called it. He sat down on the pew next to Kihyun, close enough that they could speak in whispers if they so wished, but not close enough that they were even brushing against each other. A polite distance.

“You are certainly here early,” Hyungwon commented, his voice pitched low. It was only slightly louder than a whisper.

“So are you,” Kihyun tossed back. Hyungwon shot him a sideways smile. “A strange choice of location, almost ironic - it’s as if you’re here to answer my prayers.”

Hyungwon chuckled through his nose and shook his head. “Prayers? No, no. God has nothing to do with this.”

Kihyun arched an eyebrow at him. “And yet we are standing inside a church.”

Hyungwon’s smile widened. “Ah, yes, the so-called ‘house of God’. For an omnipresent being to have a ‘house’ built by mortal men is quite contradictory, but we are not here for me to list the many inconsistencies of Christianity.”

“Indeed.”

After a moment of silence, Hyungwon looked over at him and said, “Judging from the contents of our brief messages, I take it you have found enough proof to believe my words.”

“I— Yes, I have,” Kihyun reluctantly responded, shifting in his seat with discomfort. “In fact, Hyunwoo confirmed his condition himself.”

“I see,” Hyungwon whispered, gaze falling to the floor. “I can’t imagine it was an easy conversation to have.”

He had to swallow a lump in his throat before he was able to answer. “It wasn’t.”

“And your other lover? How did he take the news?”

Kihyun shifted where sat again, the discomfort this time caused by a guilty conscience. “We haven’t told him yet.”

It wasn’t easy to skirt around the subject and find excuses to shift the topic of conversation anytime Hoseok asked what had been going on. They would have to tell him soon, both himself and Hyunwoo knew so, but the timing was never right and Hyunwoo wasn’t ready yet. Kihyun wasn’t either, not being as lost as he was about it all. Helplessness had blinded him to any possible solutions, and that was why he was there in the first place - he needed direction.

“I wanted to hear what you have to say about it first,” Kihyun admitted. 

Hyungwon nodded slowly to acknowledge his words and said, “By all means, ask me your questions, then.”

There had always been only one question in his mind, and he’d turned it around so many times in his head by then that there was barely any hesitation before he asked, “How long do they have?”

Hyungwon stared at him for a moment, likely searching for any signs Kihyun’s resolve wasn’t strong enough to take the information. He must not have found any, for soon enough he began to answer. “The one who’s been sick the longest—”

“Hoseok.”

“Thank you,” he said and continued on. “Hoseok has about three to five months, give or take.” Kihyun’s heart sunk. “It will depend a lot on the type of treatment he receives, but— I’m afraid it’s too late for him.” Hyungwon’s expression was somber when he turned forward, eyes fixed on the large statue depicting Christ on the cross, hanging on the wall behind the altar. It was eerily realistic - Kihyun had avoided looking that way since he’d arrived. “I can clearly see his life force fading, and fast.”

That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Hoseok had so little time left it made Kihyun’s head spin. Three to five months. That was nothing, that would pass in the blink of an eye and then— 

He took a deep breath so his voice would be even when he asked, “And Hyunwoo?”

“He has a few years,” Hyungwon said, sounding a bit more positive. “He is very strong physically, as strong as his resolve is.” He looked back at Kihyun and concluded by saying, “He might make it, in fact.”

Kihyun frowned. “Might?”

“Yes. Again, that will depend on treatment and his own will to fight the illness. In a worst-case scenario, I’d give him about five years.”

Kihyun tried to tell himself that five years was not a bad prediction - it was enough time to figure something out, a way of ridding Hyunwoo of that illness for good. “There’s a chance he’ll heal?”

“Yes. A very good chance.”

“But not Hoseok?”

Hyungwon shook his head. “No. Not Hoseok.” 

Kihyun lowered his head and closed his eyes. He refused to cry, not in public, not in front of Hyungwon. He was going to lose Hoseok much sooner than he expected, and no matter how happy he was to know Hyunwoo had a fighting chance, the crushing new knowledge of Hoseok’s incoming demise was soul-crushing.

“You can ensure his comfort, at least - not much else to do for him at this point.” Hyungwon continued; Kihyun didn’t want to hear it, not anymore. After a pause during which Kihyun could feel Hyungwon’s eyes on him, he commented casually, “But that’s not enough for you, is it?”

Kihyun looked up at him again only for a second before he lowered his gaze back to the ground. Of course it wasn’t enough. It was  _ definitely _ not enough. He refused to save Hyunwoo and lose Hoseok. He refused to lose either of them, not so early into their lives - the three of them were still so young, they had so much they wanted to do, places they wanted to see, so much life to live. Hope for only one of them was not even close to being enough.

“The three of us have been together since we were children,” Kihyun said. “Ever since then— everything we do, it’s for the three of us. We sink or swim together - that’s how we’ve always lived.” He raised his head to meet Hyungwon’s eyes again, a new determination clawing its way up inside him, back from the pits of despair it had fallen into. “If I am to fight, then I’ll fight for them both, no matter how little time they have left.”

Hyungwon seemed pleased with his display of resolve. “You are certainly not a man to make half-assed efforts. The deep circles under your eyes tell me as much.”

Kihyun gave him a rueful smile. “I’ve been in this battle for a long time.”

“And you haven’t considered other options? There are plenty of affordable facilities in the country that could provide them both with decent treatment, even if they can’t save them.”

“We have discussed this possibility,” he said, omitting just how exhaustive those discussions were, the many hours spent debating their options. “We have also spoken of experimental treatments, surgeries, seeking out professionals for counsel—”

“Buying a house in the countryside,” Hyungwon added breezily. Kihyun snapped his mouth shut. “And if the surgery you refer to is related to the technique in which the lung is collapsed, that doesn’t work. It will only serve to kill them faster.”

Kihyun flinched at the specific information Hyungwon had thrown at him. “How—”

Hyungwon made an impatient gesture with his hand to interrupt him. “I thought we’ve covered the ‘how’ already.” Granted, Hyungwon must get tired of hearing people gasp and ask him ‘how’ all the time. Kihyun shut his mouth again. Quietly, carefully, Hyungwon asked, “Have you considered— the path of least resistance?”

Kihyun flinched again, for a much different reason. “You mean—?”

“Yes.”

“No,” he said, voice as firm as his distress allowed. Just implying that he could have considered ending everything for his lovers, for himself— “Absolutely not.”

“Forgive me if I offend,” Hyungwon said, bowing his head apologetically. Kihyun took a deep breath, trying to will the beating of his heart to slow down. “I only meant to see where you are mentally.”

“Certainly not—  _ there _ .”

Hyungwon nodded to placate Kihyun’s outrage and, as proof he’d truly understood, he said, “Your only goal is to keep them alive for as long as possible.”

“We had—  _ have _ so many plans for our future,” Kihyun said, thinking back on all those time the three of them had snuggled in bed together and had sleepy conversations about their dreams, the house they would have, the pets they could get, all the far off places they could travel to. They had been young and naive back then, but many of those dreams had evolved into something more realistic, more solid, and Kihyun wanted to keep working towards those dreams with them. With them, or not at all. “We’ve talked about growing old together, and that— that is a dream worth fighting for, don’t you agree?”

Hyungwon smiled to himself, seemingly not aware he was doing so. It was a sad smile, though. “Yes, that is a worthy dream.”

They fell silent for a moment, the only sound in the cathedral the footsteps of the elderly woman who had at last risen from her seat and made her way outside. She shot them a judgmental glance and disappeared through the wide-open doors. Only when she was gone was that Hyungwon spoke again, his tone careful.

“And if I tell you there is a way to save them?”

Kihyun scoffed and gave him a dubious look from the corners of his eyes. “What? Have you the cure for tuberculosis hidden in your breast pocket?”

“I am not here to offer you a cure,” he said. “I’m here to offer you a miracle.”

A miracle. Kihyun chuckled bitterly to himself. They were truly standing inside a church, talking about miracles. Ridiculous. “Forgive me if I find that notion far-fetched.”

“Oh, believe me, I know how unreal this sounds,” Hyungwon said, serious, not a hint of humor in his voice. Kihyun saw no signs he was playing a prank, having a laugh at his expense, which only made him more confused. “Rest assured, I am not in the business of selling snake oil.”

“I hardly see any proof of that.”

Hyungwon smiled wide and ducked his head, and that was it, Kihyun thought, the proof he needed to see that it was all an elaborate joke. To his surprise, what came out of his mouth next wasn’t an ‘oh, I almost had you’ or anything of that sort.

“Your skepticism reminds me of that of my own lover. It is quite endearing.”

Kihyun tried not to look too surprised; as strange as he was, Hyungwon was also a person and capable of love. It was difficult to remember that, when he looked like a character crawled right out of a horror novel.

“You have a lover?” he asked. Hyungwon nodded. Kihyun still remembered the day they first met, what Hyungwon had said to him -  _ your secrets are mirror images of my own _ . “A man?”

“Yes, a man,” Hyungwon easily confirmed Kihyun’s assumption, not looking bashful in the slightest. “He also struggles to believe the supernatural despite the many times I have paraded evidence before his eyes. You and he would get along like two peas in a pod.”

While he wondered at the sanity of anyone brave enough to become the lover a medium, Kihyun still smiled and said, “He sounds like a reasonable man.”

Hyungwon expression turned sad again as his gaze moved down to his hands, resting elegantly on his lap. “If he had an ounce of reason in him he would have stayed far away from me,” he murmured. “He is the love of my life. I would do anything to ensure he is safe and happy, much like you would for your own lovers.”

Kihyun, who had begun to soften up to the idea of Hyungwon offering something real, became guarded again in a blink. “Drawing parallels between us will not convince me this ‘miracle’ you’re offering is genuine.”

“I didn’t think it would,” Hyungwon promptly said and, once again, he sounded too serious for that to be a joke. “In fact, only when you witness your lovers’ health restored for yourself will you believe it; I won’t presume to convince you of the veracity of my offer before then.”

“And what is the catch?” Kihyun asked what was the next obvious question. “I’m assuming a miracle isn’t cheap.”

“If you think I am after your hard-earned money, you are wrong - I have more than enough.”

His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Then what  _ are _ you after?”

“My proposal is an exchange of favors: I’ll make sure your two lovers are cured and, in turn, I ask that you do something for me.”

“What will you ask?”

“I cannot say for certain, as I have not yet considered what my request will be. You mustn’t worry, though - it will be something you can achieve, nothing outlandish,” Hyungwon said. “But I won’t lie: there will be consequences to my wish.”

“Consequences?” Kihyun echoed with alarm. “What consequences?”

“As I said, I can’t be sure of that yet as I haven’t made a decision on what to ask of you.”

That didn’t put Kihyun’s mind at ease, not at all. If he felt the need to mention it, then surely these ‘consequences’ would not be good. And yet— the prospect of not losing either or both of his lovers was too tempting to refuse without giving it some thought.

“If I accept this offer,” Kihyun carefully asked, “will they be cured?”

“Yes,” was Hyungwon’s instant reply.

“What of your predictions? The time they have left?” he pressed. “You say you can see into the future, so does that mean you can change the future as well?”

Hyungwon didn’t answer right away. He pondered for a moment, choosing his words, and yet again that morning, he said something Kihyun wasn’t expecting.

“Are you familiar with Greek mythology?”

Kihyun blinked, growing annoyed at the sudden topic, failing to see how it was related to their conversation. “No, I can’t say I am.”

“It is a common theme in Greek legends for a prophecy of doom to be revealed to one of the characters, and said character to do all in their power to prevent the prophecy from coming true,” Hyungwon said. “All the while, however, the character is unknowingly building the stage for the prophecy to be fulfilled. Do you understand?”

There were a hundred conclusions Kihyun could take from that, and knowing which one Hyungwon was getting at proved a bit difficult. Kihyun could only stammer out, “I’m— not sure.”

“The future is not set in stone. Your decisions will define the paths that open or close to you, but some things… Some things cannot be stopped. How they happen, on the other hand, is always up in the air.”

Kihyun thought about it for a moment, this time reaching a conclusion easily. “You are saying that death is inevitable, but that their death doesn’t have to be of consumption.”

“You are correct. I’m not offering immortality, only a chance to grow old with your lovers.”

“So if I accept this ‘miracle’ of yours, how will they die?” Kihyun asked, bordering on pleading. “How long will they have?”

Hyungwon shrugged at him helplessly, an apologetic look on his face he couldn’t interpret as being anything more than genuine. “I’m sorry to admit that I can’t know that. The future is like a muddied lake - you can’t see far into it, not beyond what floats up closer to the surface.”

Kihyun wouldn’t even pretend to understand what he meant by that. “And if I don’t take the deal?”

“I can still find a way to help,” Hyungwon said, surprising him yet again. “Perhaps even lend you the money necessary to get them the best treatment available, although that is a debt I am certain you don’t want or need. Besides, the best treatment isn’t a promise they will survive.”

Hyungwon was right - the best treatment was not a promise of salvation. At best, Hyunwoo and Hoseok would be comfortable and have access to the medicine they needed to feel better. At worse, they would die at a strange place, on a strange bed, surrounded by strangers.

Still, the rational part of him knew that accepting a loan from Hyungwon would be the best choice. They could work something out, certainly, a way for Kihyun to be able to pay him back without going bankrupt; Hyungwon was, as he’d assumed, a reasonable man. And the money could be used not to find a facility, specifically, but for a different treatment.

Yet that was still not a guarantee it would work. Hyungwon, for all that his offer sounded like a bunch of superstition and hocus pocus, was promising him a certainty. He was telling him that Hyunwoo and Hoseok  _ will _ get better, there were no ‘maybes’ there.

He could play it safe and risk losing one or both of his loves, or go along with Hyungwon’s insane offer and have it all. If, that is, he was telling the truth.

The bottom line of it all was, however, the fact that Kihyun didn’t trust Hyungwon. He didn’t trust rich people in general, but Hyungwon was a rich man with far too many secrets and far too much knowledge. With a man like that, it was difficult to pinpoint his motivations. And the price— a favor. What favor was worth a life?  _ Two _ lives? What could Kihyun possibly have to offer him that would equate such a high cost?

He looked up at Hyungwon, staring him dead in the eyes, and asked, “Why are you helping me?”

That sad expression returned to his features and he lowered his gaze. “Let’s just say I know how it feels to fight to save someone you love,” he said. Then, lifting a hand to touch the pendant he was wearing around his neck, a scorpion cameo, he added, “Moreover, I happen to know how it feels to fail at this task.”

“I’m sorry,” Kihyun immediately said, ducking his own head in contrition. Now he felt like an insensitive jackass. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s quite alright,” Hyungwon said, shooting him a tight-lipped smile. “The universe often takes things away from us but, sometimes, it gives them back.”

Kihyun, somehow, managed to smile back at him. “It is good to know you have found love again.”

“Thank you,” Hyungwon said, his cheeks going a bit rosy. Kihyun wasn’t sure if he found it cute or unnerving - it always struck him as odd whenever Hyungwon’s arrogant veneer cracked to reveal his softer side. “Changkyun is the main reason why I decided to make this offer to you. I’d forgotten how it feels to care for someone so deeply before I found him.”

Assuming that was the name of Hyungwon’s lover, Kihyun said, “If you love your Changkyun so much, then you must understand my determination to save both Hyunwoo and Hoseok. I don’t know you or your character very well, but I want to believe you wouldn’t play with such a serious matter.”

Whatever bashfulness Hyungwon was expressing disappeared again, the serious demeanor returning when they locked eyes. “I don’t play with matters of life and death.”

Misguided as his instincts might be, Kihyun found that he believed him. “I also assume you know that I need some manner of promise your cure will work.”

“I can give you every promise and it still won’t be enough,” Hyungwon said. “This is one of the few times in life where you need to make the choice to take a leap of faith and trust you’ll sprout wings, or continue to keep your feet firm on the ground and hope it won’t open up to swallow you whole.”

Kihyun sighed; Hyungwon’s allegory hit too close to his struggles. It couldn’t be a coincidence. “You paint an enticing picture, I’ll give you that.”

Hyungwon smiled at him again. He looked tired, Kihyun noticed for the first time; not physically, but as if his energy had been drained, or as if he’d stayed up too late the night before and didn’t get much sleep. “Think about it,” he said, getting up from his seat. “Hoseok still has a few months, so you can take some time to consider the offer. I would advise you not to take too long, however. The clock is still ticking.” He bowed his head briefly in a farewell. “You know where to find me.”

And just like that, Hyungwon turned around and walked away, leaving Kihyun alone in the cathedral. Everything about the meeting felt like a fever dream and Kihyun was not in the right state of mind to look too hard into it.

He decided to say another prayer, this time for clarity to make the right choice, and go home to his loves. He desperately needed to lie down after that conversation, preferably in one or both of his lovers’ arms.

◦ ◦ ◦

Minhyuk stepped out of the tailor’s shop already feeling much better about the changes he requested on his medium costume. No more itchy sequins around his neck and,  _ oh _ , he could hardly wait for the costume to be ready the next day. He hated those sequins, but had been pushing off the task to visit a tailor for weeks since he’d been— well. Busy. With things.

The main thing being Jooheon, of course. 

Their exchange inside that shed a couple of days before had been eye-opening - Jooheon was a scaredy-cat, something Minhyuk was already aware of, but now he also knew he was afraid of heartbreak as much as he was afraid of ghosts. Jooheon was sensitive. Fragile. Minhyuk had always been clumsy and couldn’t be trusted around anything delicate; for Jooheon, though, he was willing to make an effort.

The problem was, he had no idea  _ how _ . What could he do to earn Jooheon’s trust? The day for the circus’ departure was near and there was so much to decide, so much to consider, pros and cons to be compared and measured. Jooheon didn’t ask him to stay and had made it clear that he would not leave with the circus either, which put Minhyuk in the uncomfortable position of having to actually consider his future for a change.

He was never a planner. He did things on a whim, lived in the present. The very thought of long-term goals felt alien to him, yet there he was, willing to think of a way to keep Jooheon by his side for as long as he possibly could.

At the same time, he didn’t want to stay.

He didn’t want to stay, and Jooheon didn’t want to leave.

He understood the reasons Jooheon had given him, and he had to - very reluctantly - agree. His request was selfish. He couldn’t expect Jooheon to uproot his entire life to follow him, not when he didn’t have a promise Minhyuk wouldn’t break his heart.

It was a valid concern. Minhyuk had broken his fair share of hearts, and while it usually didn’t faze him much, he didn’t want to take chances with Jooheon’s precious, golden heart.

Perhaps leaving was the best option - it did not, however, mean that he would lose touch with Jooheon. He could write. He would write to him every day, keep himself in Jooheon’s field of perception, and win him over with his words alone. He was no poet, sure, but certainly he’d be able to get his feelings across. Then one day, when Minhyuk was ready, he would come back and stay for good.

If Jooheon wanted him to by then, of course. He might not.

The thought made Minhyuk feel as if a void had opened inside him, sucking all his organs away and leaving only a chilling emptiness behind. Being rejected by Jooheon was nothing new, but a definitive rejection had never truly happened and Minhyuk dearly hoped it would stay that way. It was hard enough to handle Jooheon’s hesitance to be around him; to hear Jooheon say in clear, loud words that he wanted Minhyuk out of his life for good would crush him.

Still, it was a risk he was willing to take. For all that he had experience and many partners in his past, there was something about Jooheon that plucked at his heartstrings with the delicate touch of a musician playing the harp, something that caused a wave of feelings Minhyuk didn’t usually have to rise up and threaten to drown him. Jooheon was— he didn’t even know how to put it into words. All he knew was that Jooheon was dear to him in the way very few people in his life had been. He knew how it made him feel when Jooheon looked at him and when he smiled at him, he knew how wonderful it felt to hear him laugh, and how distressing it was to see him upset.

And, most importantly, Minhyuk liked the person he was when Jooheon was with him. Before he met Jooheon, he’d never seen himself as much more than a pretty face with decent enough social skills to get what he wanted. He had never thought of himself of someone worthy of— happiness. And then Jooheon came along, and suddenly Minhyuk started believing that he  _ did _ deserve to be happy, that he deserved to find someone who truly cared about him instead of continuously allowing others to use him and discard him as if he were a thing and not a person. Jooheon had seen in him something Minhyuk had never seen in himself: value.

Jooheon inspired in him the desire to be better. All he needed was a chance to prove he could to it, prove he was capable of being good, of being reliable, of taking care of Jooheon, of protecting his heart. Of making him happy.

That’s what it all came boiling down to - he wanted to make Jooheon happy.

Time was running out, though. What he needed was something that made it clear to Jooheon that Minhyuk didn’t plan on leaving forever, something that said ‘I care deeply about you but neither of us is ready right now, so I’m leaving but I will come back to you someday’ - perhaps not with those exact words, but something close to it. He could perhaps write a letter.

Or he could buy him a gift. Maybe a piece of jewelry? Nothing too expensive or binding. No rings, for instance, as that could send the wrong message and scare Jooheon out of his wits. A locket might do, such as the one Changkyun owned; he’d seen him wearing it, and he knew enough to make an educated guess at its meaning, and the meaning was ‘Hyungwon’ as it always was with Changkyun. He could get a pretty locket, put a picture of himself inside, and then Jooheon would have something that would remind him of Minhyuk while they were apart.

Yes, that was a great plan. He had some money saved up, it was certainly enough to afford a nice locket for Jooheon.

As he pondered over whether gold or silver would suit Jooheon’s pretty eyes better, his gaze lingering on the grand cathedral across the square, a familiar figure stepped out of the huge doors and made its way down the stone steps.

Minhyuk’s eyes went wide. He would recognize that pearl-white hair anywhere.

And he was just thinking about him, too. Had he summoned him?

What could Hyungwon be doing inside a church, of all places? Certainly not setting up the date of his wedding with Changkyun. Two men marrying was not allowed and Changkyun would likely be there with Hyungwon if that was the case. No, no - Hyungwon was up to no good. He could feel it in his gut.

Narrowing his eyes as his determination and focus shifted from finding Jooheon a present to unraveling the mystery that was Hyungwon, Minhyuk made the split-second decision of following him. He was bound to see something strange if he kept a close watch on Hyungwon, he just knew it. Strange as he was, Hyungwon was - allegedly - only human. Humans make mistakes. He would slip up sooner or later, and when that happened, Minhyuk wanted to be there to witness it.

So he put his plan to woo Jooheon on the shelf for later and hurried across the plaza, hoping Hyungwon wouldn’t turn around and see him - he didn’t want his plan to fall apart when it hadn’t even been put into motion yet.

Luck was on his side that day. He made it all the way to the sidewalk Hyungwon was walking on without being spotted, and from there it became a bit difficult to keep up; there were too many people around, blocking his way, blocking his view. What kept him from losing sight of Hyungwon was the man’s hair, the color too unusual and eye-catching for him not to be able to keep track of it. He was at least grateful for that part of Hyungwon’s insufferable self.

He was  _ not _ grateful, however, for Hyungwon’s long legs, which allowed him to walk much faster than Minhyuk and forced him to scramble to keep up. Damn him.

Hyungwon did nothing but walk for a few minutes, making his way down a street that held much fancier shops; Minhyuk felt out of place there, with his worn clothes and messy hair, and while he did catch the eye of a few passersby, he kept his head held high. He had a mission and he would see it through. Besides, it was a public street, he had every right to be there.

He followed Hyungwon almost all the way to the end of that long road, up until the point when Hyungwon entered a store. Going in after him would only serve to give him away, so Minhyuk quickly crossed the street to have an advantage view of Hyungwon when he came out. Looking at the store’s placard, sitting atop the door, he found that it was a tailor. What a coincidence - he’d been at a tailor not twenty minutes ago, albeit not one as expensive as the one Hyungwon was meeting with probably was.

Why was he at a tailor, though? Just to order some clothes? Unlikely, as someone like Hyungwon would rather call the tailor to their residence and make the order there. Was the tailor in on his schemes? Minhyuk almost let out a gasp of triumph, because, yes, that could be it. Special clothes to hide all his dirty little secrets. Extra pockets. Larger sleeves. It made sense.

The problem was, how could he prove it? He would have to find access to Hyungwon’s clothes. Changkyun would not be willing to snoop around to discover his own lover’s secrets, so the next best thing would be if Minhyuk casually dropped by the mansion with some plausible enough excuse, and when Hyungwon got distracted, he would sneak into his bedroom and look for proof. Perfect. That plan could not possibly go wrong.

Sure, he didn’t know where exactly the mansion was, but that was nothing some asking around wouldn’t fix.

The plan didn’t have enough time to cement itself in Minhyuk’s mind when Hyungwon came out of the shop carrying a package under his arm. It looked innocent enough - just a man picking up an order of clothes. Minhyuk knew better. Hyungwon wasn’t innocent and that bundle held a secret. 

Minhyuk shook his head, took a deep breath. Maybe he was spiraling, just the tiniest bit; knowing he didn’t have much time to solve that mystery was causing his mind to work in strange ways and jump to odd conclusions, so before he continued following Hyungwon, he allowed himself a second to find his center again.

Secret pockets. That was a stupid conclusion to reach without further evidence.

Still a superb idea, however. He would keep that in mind for himself.

He continued to stalk Hyungwon back in the direction of the plaza, something that was somehow easier now that they were on different sides of the street. Easier to spot him at an unobstructed angle than having to look through and above a crowd to see him.

Hyungwon didn’t return to the plaza, instead turning a corner into a side street and, in doing so, forcing Minhyuk to run not to lose him. Many people gave him odd looks, a couple of them going as far as cursing and shouting at him to look where he was going, but he didn’t stop for anyone. He only stopped when he caught up with Hyungwon, just in time to see him standing in front of a vendor.

Minhyuk approached as much as he dared, seeing that Hyungwon was— buying caramels.

Probably secret evil caramels.

He rolled his eyes at his own thoughts the moment they crossed his mind. What on earth was a secret evil caramel!? 

He watched as Hyungwon paid the owner of the stall with a polite smile on his face and went on his merry way, the little bag of caramels secured in his hand along with the parcel from the tailor. Could it be that he was truly just running errands? But— Hyungwon was rich. Did rich people run their errands themselves? How come Minhyuk never heard about it?

Maybe he just— didn’t know Hyungwon. He had an image of him made up in his mind, but he didn’t  _ know _ him. Could he have been wrong about his character— no. No, he couldn’t. Minhyuk knew people, and Hyungwon… he was hiding something. Something big. Whatever it was, it was not a good thing, and Minhyuk would be damned if he let his guard down. The moment he began seeing Hyungwon as anything other than the enemy, then his drive to find answers would falter.

And what about Hyungwon’s strange prediction, the one he’d conveyed to him the last time they met? Minhyuk would see him one more time. They would not speak to one another. And they would never see each other again.

Seeing Hyungwon on the street, following him, was that the last time he’d see him?  _ Why _ would it be the last time? Because Minhyuk was set to leave town in a couple of days? But he planned on coming back eventually, and Changkyun being Jooheon’s best friend meant that Hyungwon would still be around by then. Unless— unless something happened that removed him from the scene. Hyungwon and Changkyun might go their separate ways. Jooheon and Changkyun might stop being friends. They could move away. They could… die.

The thought sent a shiver down Minhyuk’s spine. He decided he didn’t want to think about it anymore, not ever again, and forced himself to focus on Hyungwon as he continued on his way.

The crowd on that street was larger, and Minhyuk’s vision of Hyungwon kept being obstructed by people, pearl-white flashing in and out of his field of vision. It was a frustrating task, which made him question why he was following Hyungwon at all - what did he expect to see? A careful man like Hyungwon would not do anything out of the ordinary in public. Whatever tricks he had up his sleeves, he would only let them show within the safety of the walls of his home, if ever.

He should go, Minhyuk thought. He should leave, go back to the circus, spend the little time he had left in that town basking in Jooheon’s presence and forget about Hyungwon. In the grand scheme of things, what had transpired between them during that game the night they first met would be of no consequence to him once he left. There would be no repercussions, not wherever the circus’ next stop would be. Nobody there would know of his shame, he could build his reputation anew. Hyungwon shouldn’t matter. Didn’t matter.

He’d made up his mind to leave, when he saw Hyungwon enter a dark alleyway - odd. He had thought Hyungwon would go inside the bank, which was right next to it. It would make sense for Hyungwon to go to the bank, but, instead, he went into that inconspicuous alley as if that’s where he’d been meaning to go all along. It gave him a strange feeling, seeing that - it didn’t feel natural, even if his mind could be adding the sensation to a harmless scene based on how eerie Hyungwon was.

He hurried after him, reaching the alley not five seconds after Hyungwon, and once there his stomach dropped, his blood ran cold - and not because the temperature in the alley was so unnaturally low.

The dead-end alley was empty.

Hyungwon had vanished as if he’d never been there at all.

◦ ◦ ◦

Of all the things Jooheon was expecting that day, from Minhyuk annoying him to poop being thrown at him by those demon monkeys, one thing that didn’t cross his mind was that Changkyun would be making an appearance. In fact, he almost didn’t recognize his lifelong best friend when he showed up at the circus to see him.

He was used to Changkyun wearing oversized, tattered clothes, much like Jooheon himself did. They could never afford truly nice things before, often turning to the few shops that sold secondhand outfits instead of buying brand new pieces of clothing. The Changkyun that showed up that day looked  _ nothing _ like the Changkyun he knew: he was dressed sharply, each piece of clothing tailored exactly to fit his frame, the materials of obvious quality and fine make. He’d even combed his hair, which was yet another thing the old Changkyun would rarely bother to do. Jooheon tried to hide his surprise, but his jaw had dropped long before he could even remember his manners.

He knew Changkyun would start living rich but—  _ wow. _

And yet, for all that he was dressed like a true aristocrat, his body language was meek and unsure - his shoulders drawn in and head ducked slightly, both hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers, barely making eye contact.

Jooheon stopped everything he was doing, which at the moment was going over to the demon monkeys and feed them - he figured that delaying that particular task wasn’t all that bad - and waited for Changkyun to approach him. When he did, he caught the scent of flowers and honey - how Hyungwon smelled. He’d been close enough to Hyungwon to know that, and smelling that scent on Changkyun was like a slap in the face delivered by reality.

His friend belonged to Hyungwon now, to his world. Changkyun might not know it himself, or he did know and was fine with it; either way, whoever Changkyun had been before was now gone.

“Hey,” Changkyun greeted, attempting to smile but not quite delivering it properly.

“Hey,” Jooheon said back cautiously.

And then there was silence, charged and terrible; it was so rare for them not to be able to find the words to say to each other. They’d been friends since he could remember, they talked about anything, everything and nothing. Sometimes they’d spend the better part of the night just talking nonsense and laughing, all because they couldn’t shut up and stop blurting out every stupid thought that popped into their heads. Yet there they were. Speechless.

“I—” Changkyun started, uncertain, but quickly changed his mind and said instead, “Can we talk?”

Jooheon’s first reaction was to say no and tell Changkyun to leave, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the look in Changkyun’s eyes, maybe it was the fact that Jooheon dearly missed his best friend and hated being at odds with him. Whatever the reason, he quietly nodded to agree and guided Changkyun to the same spot where their last conversation occurred. There, they sat down at the exact same places they had sat that day, and the feeling of déja vu was so strong it made Jooheon feel a little dizzy. He at least hoped this conversation wouldn’t turn out like the last one.

Once more, they were silent for a while. Changkyun fidgeted in his seat, and Jooheon only watched him warily, almost fearing Changkyun was about to drop terrible news on his lap and run off to his boyfriend, leaving him to deal with the consequences.

Again.

Whatever Changkyun had to say, he wasn’t making a move to start talking. Jooheon decided to break the ice himself, if only to leave that strange limbo of awkwardness they’d fallen into.

“You look nice.”

Changkyun jolted slightly, surprised by the comment, and gave Jooheon a stiff smile. “A-ah, thank you.”

His bitterness reared its ugly head before Jooheon could stop it. “It’s perhaps a bit much to wear just to see a caretaker at the circus.”

Changkyun’s cheeks went red. “I— I know, it’s— I’m having lunch with Hyungwon at a restaurant uptown later, before we return to the mansion.”

Jooheon arched an eyebrow. “He’s here?”

“Well, not  _ here _ here, he had a business meeting this morning. I’ll meet him after this,” Changkyun explained. The answer put Jooheon at ease; Hyungwon’s presence was always a source of distress. “In fact,” Changkyun continued, “he’s the one who convinced me to come to see you.”

Jooheon’s guard went up again. “Convinced you? You had to be convinced to visit me? Something you promised you’d do?”

“It’s not like that,” Changkyun said, already sounding tired even if they’d just started their conversation. “I just knew you’d still be upset and— honestly, I didn’t want us to get into another fight.”

“And your boyfriend had to drag you out of your new castle to come socialize with the riff-raff, is that it?”

“You know it isn’t. I am aware that you don’t like Hyungwon, but he’s not the evil you think he is,” Changkyun said, and Jooheon was not at all inclined to listen to his campaign in favor of his creepy boyfriend’s character.

“Look, I don’t care.” Jooheon cut him off before he could say anything else. “He’s  _ your _ lover, not mine.”

“Yes, he is, and you’re my best friend,” he argued. “Like it or not, both of you are important to me and I’d rather have you both in my life. That’s why I’m here, not to rub anything in your face or whatever it is you think I’m doing.”

Jooheon pursed his lips and looked away. He wasn’t expecting such an answer, and whenever Changkyun got emotional like that, Jooheon couldn’t help but let his guard down.

“Hyungwon was the one to bring it up last night,” Changkyun continued on. “He said he understands how you feel like he’s stealing me from you and that he never meant for that to happen. He told me that I should reach out before my silence gave you the wrong impression, and he said that our friendship matters. Does that sound like someone with ill intentions?”

Jooheon swallowed hard and shrugged. “Like I said, he’s your lover, not mine. I don’t care how he sounds, I don’t care about his intentions. What I care about is that, since he showed up, my best friend has changed into someone I don’t know anymore, and that bothers me.”

Changkyun lowered his head, maybe out of shame, maybe as a sign of contrition. “I’m still me, Jooheon.”

“Are you really?”

“I am,” he said with conviction. “My situation might have changed, but I’m still myself.”

“What then?” Jooheon asked with a scoff. “You’re just in love, is that it?”

“Yes, I absolutely am,” Changkyun said, reaching out to take one of Jooheon’s hands. “And I’m  _ happy _ . He makes me happy, Jooheon, so— can’t you at least try to be happy for me?”

Jooheon took a deep breath, the pleading look in Changkyun’s face doing a thorough job of disarming him. “I  _ am _ happy that you’re happy. I just can’t trust him, Kyun.”

“I can understand that,” Changkyun granted, not letting go of Jooheon’s hand. “I’m not asking you to like him. I’m not even asking you to tolerate him, because I know just how incredibly annoying he can be sometimes.” There was a hint of humor in his voice that almost made Jooheon smile. Almost. “All I want is to know we’re okay. I don’t want to lose my best friend over something like this.”

Jooheon looked down at their hands for a long moment, and quietly said, “I don’t want to lose my best friend either.”

“I know I haven’t been a good friend to you lately,” Changkyun said fervently, squeezing Jooheon’s hand. “I’ve been too wrapped up in my own problems to look beyond them, and I’m sorry.”

Jooheon nodded briefly, unable to do much more than that. He felt like he would burst into tears, and he didn’t want that to happen at his workplace, in front of everyone.

Keeping his tears contained became exponentially harder when Changkyun rose from his chair to wrap Jooheon in a tight hug, which Jooheon promptly reciprocated. He forced himself to ignore the new scent clinging to his best friend and focused instead on the relief of not having to be angry at him anymore; he hated not being able to talk to him, hated the distance between them - not only emotionally, but also physically now that he’d moved over an hour away. He missed having him around, only one shout away if he needed him.

They would likely never have that again, the constant proximity, but Jooheon wanted to believe their friendship would endure. Or maybe he would finally get fed up with Hyungwon’s insufferable nature and come home. That was a fine outcome, too.

Regardless, Changkyun reaching out to him was a weight lifted from his shoulders. He wasn’t alone. He could be living alone now, but he wasn’t alone. Changkyun wouldn’t let him be alone.

He forced himself not to think about how Minhyuk would be gone in a couple of days. That weight was still firmly perched on his back.

He had Changkyun back now. He had Changkyun, so— it didn’t matter if Minhyuk wasn’t there. It wouldn’t matter. He would make it not matter.

“You know I love you, right?” Changkyun asked. Jooheon finally allowed himself to smile.

“I love you too, even if you’re an asshole.”

Changkyun cackled, making his eardrums ring a bit as it was right next to him, but Jooheon didn’t care at that moment. He’d missed Changkyun’s boisterous cackling. When they finally parted, Jooheon looked at Changkyun intensely for a few seconds. He looked— well. Healthy. It didn’t appear he was being mistreated, and he’d gained a little weight - Hyungwon was at least feeding him properly. Small victories.

“Are you truly happy there?” Jooheon asked, looking directly into Changkyun’s eyes.

“I am, Jooheon,” he said, smiling. “The place itself is strange and I’m not entirely used to it yet, but Hyungwon has been wonderful with making sure I’m comfortable. In fact, he told me it was alright to invite you for a visit.”

Jooheon frowned suspiciously. “A visit? To the mansion?”

“Yes!” Changkyun confirmed with an even wider smile. He looked so excited about the idea Jooheon felt bad about saying no even if he hadn’t refused the invitation yet. “I want you to see for yourself how I’ve been living. Maybe you’ll even understand Hyungwon a bit better, enough not to worry so much about me.”

Jooheon opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say before settling on, “I don’t know, Kyun.”

“Please?” Changkyun insisted. “You don’t even have to spend time around Hyungwon, that place is big enough that you wouldn’t even have to see him.”

“What about that other guy?”

“Guhn?” Changkyun asked. Jooheon nodded to confirm. “We can do this on a day he’s out on business, so you don’t have to be concerned about running into him.” Jooheon still hesitated, so Changkyun threw him the ultimate pitch. “The head cook there is incredible, she makes this amazing chocolate cake.”

Jooheon groaned and pouted. Chocolate cake was a low blow. “Ugh, fine, I’ll think about it.”

Changkyun beamed at him, nearly bouncing with excitement. It was getting harder and harder for Jooheon to reject the offer like he first planned, but Changkyun was his friend - sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for your friends.

Even a sacrifice as terrible as spending the day at a mansion eating amazing chocolate cake.

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” Changkyun said. “I can get the carriage to pick you up and drop you off after, I’ll handle all the details.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jooheon repeated, now amused at his friend’s enthusiasm. Maybe he hadn’t changed that much, after all. “As long as your boyfriend doesn’t try to scare me.”

“He won’t, I’ll talk to him,” he promised. “You’ll barely have to be around him.”

“One second is enough for him to creep the life out of me.”

“I’ll tell him to act like a normal person instead of the spooky medium,” Changkyun said, laughing. “Believe it or not, he  _ is _ capable of holding conversations that don’t involve ghosts.”

Jooheon gave Changkyun a dubious look and sighed. “Well, at least he’s feeding you,” he said, and pinched Changkyun’s cheek. “You’re looking healthy.”

Changkyun barked a laugh. “I’m still getting plenty of exercise, if you know what I mean.” He punctuated the sentence with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, to which Jooheon could do nothing but grimace.

“Gross.”

“Enough about me,” Changkyun said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “How have you been?”

Jooheon lowered his head and shrugged, trying to downplay how  _ not _ fine he’d been and said, “I’ve been better. Getting by.”

Changkyun stared at him for a moment, a small hitch between his brows. “What’s wrong?”

“You know. Life,” Jooheon answered noncommittally. “It’s been a little lonely since you moved out.”

“What about Minhyuk?”

The question made Jooheon bristle. “What about him?”

“Nothing, you two just seemed to be getting along,” Changkyun said. It felt like he wanted to say more than he had, but was holding back. Jooheon decided he didn’t want to know. “Hasn’t he been keeping you company?”

“I’m trying to keep my distance from him, actually,” Jooheon admitted; it was Changkyun, after all, there was no reason to keep that sort of information hidden from him. He was never the type to gossip, so he wasn’t concerned he would run to his creepy boyfriend to tell him all about Jooheon’s hopeless crush on Minhyuk. “He’s leaving with the circus soon.”

Changkyun blinked, clearly surprised with the news. “He is? I thought you two—”

“No,” Jooheon interrupted, shaking his head for emphasis. “It’s fine, Kyun. He’ll leave and I’ll get over it.”

“I just thought— The way he looks at you—” Changkyun babbled, still having some trouble wrapping his mind around it. He would rather Changkyun stopped talking about it altogether. “He’s really leaving? Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Jooheon confirmed. “Even if he weren’t leaving… I don’t know. I don’t think it would have worked out.”

“What makes you say that?”

Now  _ that _ was something Jooheon didn’t want to get into. It involved too many of his insecurities, and while Changkyun was familiar with some of them, he wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. Besides, saying it out loud made everything feel more real; he couldn’t say he couldn’t measure up to Minhyuk’s standards, that he wasn’t attractive or adventurous enough. That he wasn’t enough, period.

He wasn’t even enough for Minhyuk to decide to stay of his own accord.

In that aspect, Jooheon envied Changkyun. From the very beginning, Changkyun knew his feelings were returned, that he had a chance, that Hyungwon was as enamored with him as Changkyun himself was. He envied how easy it was for them, how all the pieces fell into place for them to be together.

Jooheon didn’t have that. And it was alright, in the end - he never expected a fairytale ending, or a happily ever after for himself. He never gave romantic relationships much importance; in the grand scheme of things, having a partner wasn’t exactly a  _ need _ . Food and shelter were needs, breathing was a need, drinking water was a need. One can survive without romance, and having known that he preferred men since he was young had made it easier to accept that he might never find someone.

It didn’t stop him from envying Changkyun’s situation. It didn’t stop him from wishing he was enough for Minhyuk. It didn’t stop the hurt.

But time heals all wounds, as his grandmother used to say; it would be painful for a while, and then it would go away. Minhyuk would be a distant memory, and maybe someday, somehow, if fate was kind, Jooheon would find someone who would consider him enough.

“I just don’t think I’m his type,” Jooheon settled on saying.

Changkyun still didn’t seem convinced, judging from the look he shot him. “I’m quite certain you’re not only his type, but you also surpass his standards.” Jooheon snorted in response but Changkyun insisted. “No, I’m serious! I know you don’t believe it when I say this, but it’s the truth. If Minhyuk can’t see how amazing you are, then good riddance.”

Jooheon smiled at Changkyun, grateful but still feeling a tightness in his chest. He desperately wanted to change the subject. “Yeah, good riddance. I started looking for a new job already, I suppose that’s more important than— whatever could come of this. Not starving takes precedence over a crush.”

“You’re not going to starve,” Changkyun said, rolling his eyes. “I told you that I’m still going to help you with the bills.”

“I know you mean well, but I’d rather still make my own money,” Jooheon said. “I’m not prideful enough to refuse help when it’s offered, and I do welcome it; I just don’t want to depend on you financially. Or on your boyfriend.”

“I know that,” Changkyun replied. “All I meant to say is that you don’t have to worry about money, and you don’t have to take the first job that appears. Do something you enjoy doing this time, stop accepting whatever work shows up - I got you covered until you do.”

“Thanks, Kyun,” Jooheon said, and this time his smile was genuine. “I was thinking about becoming a baker.”

“A baker?” Changkyun echoed, a pensive look on his face. He then laced one arm around Jooheon’s shoulders and began guiding him back towards the front of the circus grounds. Jooheon went along without questioning. “You know, that would suit you really well.”

“You think so?” Jooheon asked, smiling brightly. “I’m just thinking of all the free baked goods I could eat.”

Changkyun laughed and shook his head, looking at him fondly. “I hope you never change, Jooheon. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

The affirmation came as a shock to Jooheon, a shock so grand he stopped walking and frowned. “Uh… Thanks, I think.”

“I mean it,” Changkyun said, pulling Jooheon with him so they could continue walking. “You have to stop putting yourself down.”

“Easier said than done,” Jooheon mumbled under his breath. “Where are we going?”

“Just out front, Hyungwon is probably on his way and I want to be somewhere I can spot the carriage,” Changkyun explained. Realizing what he said, he quickly added, “You don’t have to talk to him.”

Jooheon simply sighed. “Understood. Your lunch date.”

“I’ll come to visit again soon,” Changkyun promised. “My business with Hyungwon now requires me to come to the city often - whenever I do, I’ll drop by.”

“What business is that?”

“ _ Secret _ business,” Changkyun said with a mysterious smile.

“You better not be involved with anything illegal,” Jooheon said sternly.

Changkyun paused for a moment as if considering it and said, “I don’t think there is a law against it, so no, it’s not illegal.”

Jooheon made a whiny noise through his nose and slapped Changkyun’s arm with little to no strength. “You’re only making me more curious!”

Changkyun’s only reaction was to laugh. He opened his mouth to say something but, whatever it was, it was drowned out by a shrill voice and the loud thumps of fast-approaching footsteps.

“Honey!”

Jooheon flinched and grimaced, his ears ringing and every cell in his body telling him to turn around and run away. Minhyuk was faster than his ability to make decisions, and before he could brace himself for impact Minhyuk crashed into him, babbling fast about whatever nonsense that was on his mind that day. It was hard to tell with Minhyuk. Changkyun, the lucky bastard, managed to step out of the way before Minhyuk trampled him, and was now only watching the scene in a mixture of horror and curiosity.

“Honey, you’ll never believe what just happened!” Minhyuk was saying, arms wound tight around Jooheon, so tight he feared it would leave bruises. “He disappeared! He disappeared into thin air!”

Jooheon frowned, confused, but ignored Minhyuk to give priority to freeing himself from his death grip. As he tried to pry himself out of his octopus-like embrace, Minhyuk continued to go and on about— whatever it was. Jooheon only caught a few loose words here and there. The most prominent ones were ‘follow’, ‘caramels’, and ‘disappear’. The word ‘disappear’ was being said a  _ lot _ .

“Calm down!” Jooheon asked— no,  _ begged _ , for the sake of his eardrums. He finally freed himself from Minhyuk and held on to his wrists to keep him from grabbing him again. Minhyuk’s eyes were wide and he was pale as a sheet. Jooheon’s annoyance was quickly replaced with concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m not! He disappeared, Honey!” Minhyuk insisted. He looked as if he was a second away from crying like a scared child.

“Who disappeared?” Changkyun asked, and Minhyuk turned to him, his eyes taking a manic quality.

Minhyuk pointed a finger at Changkyun and hiss-shouted, “Your boyfriend is a ghost!”

Changkyun snorted. “No, he’s not.”

“He just disappeared!” Minhyuk cried.

“I can guarantee he is not a ghost,” Changkyun said, very, very slowly. “He is very much alive.”

“I’m telling you, I just saw him disappear!” Minhyuk continued, adamant in his words. “I saw it with my own eyes!”

“Where did you even see him?” Jooheon asked. There was so much going on he was having trouble keeping up.

“I went to the tailor, right? By the main square,” Minhyuk began recounting his experience, this time without shrieking it. “As I was on my way out, I saw  _ your boyfriend _ ,” he pointed at Changkyun accusatorily, “leaving the cathedral and I thought to myself ‘this is a great time to follow him’, so I did, I followed him, and at first he just went into a shop, then he stopped at a stall and bought caramels, and I thought, this is a trick, he’s going to do something weird, and I was right!” Up until that point, Minhyuk had said everything with a single breath. Jooheon worried he would pass out for lack of oxygen. “I followed him all the way to this alley, and he went in, and when I went after him he was gone! He disappeared!”

Jooheon and Changkyun exchanged a look, one more unconvinced than the other. Changkyun turned to Minhyuk again and said, “Why were you following Hyungwon around on the street? That’s creepy.”

Minhyuk visibly bristled at the accusation. “He’s creepier! Did you hear a word I said? He disappeared!”

“Are you sure he disappeared?” Jooheon asked, keeping his own tone controlled. Minhyuk was doing enough shouting for the three of them. “He could have entered a side door, or ran into another street.”

“It was a dead-end alleyway! And there were no doors!”

“You must have imagined it,” Changkyun said. “He probably entered a store  _ next _ to the alley but you thought he was in the alley and this is all a misunderstanding.”

Minhyuk let out a choked whine. “Why won’t anyone believe me!?”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Changkyun asked, one eyebrow raised. “You’re saying Hyungwon is a ghost because he ‘disappeared’. That sounds insane.”

“But I saw it!” Minhyuk repeated once more, the fight visibly draining from him little by little. He then turned to Jooheon with a pleading expression on his face. “You believe me, right, honey?”

Jooheon opened and closed his mouth several times, not wanting to feed into Minhyuk’s tale but also reluctant to crush his hopes; he hated seeing Minhyuk upset. It was like kicking a puppy. “I— I believe you believe you saw Hyungwon disappear.”

It was the best he could do, really. Minhyuk pouted, looking betrayed. “Honey, you should be on my side!”

Jooheon chose to ignore that statement. Turning to Changkyun, he mouthed a discreet, “I’m sorry.”

Changkyun gave Jooheon a pat on the shoulder and turned around to check the street for any signs of his carriage. It was already there, somehow arrived while they were distracted with Minhyuk’s distress. “I have to go, my ghost boyfriend is here.”

Minhyuk’s eyes went wide as dinner plates as he looked towards the carriage. “How is he here!?” he shrieked. “I saw him disappear!”

“Disappeared into a carriage, probably,” Changkyun said. He gave Jooheon a tight hug. “You think about my invitation, alright?”

“I will,” Jooheon promised.

Minhyuk heard it and promptly perked up. “What invitation?”

“Changkyun invited me to visit him at the mansion,” Jooheon droned out the information without any emotion, not even trying to hide it mostly because he knew Minhyuk would pester him forever if he didn’t tell him and he just wanted some peace and quiet. Too much had happened during that morning alone and he hadn’t even eaten his lunch yet. He needed a break.

Minhyuk’s face lit up. “Really? That sounds great! We’ll be there!”

“You’re not invited,” Changkyun pointed out. Minhyuk pouted.

“Why not? I want to see the mansion!”

“You only want to ‘see the mansion’ because you have a vendetta against Hyungwon,” Changkyun said. “You are not invited.”

“It’s not like you’ll be here for it anyway,” Jooheon grumbled before he could help himself. Minhyuk, again, heard it and deflated further.

“Honey…”

“I’ll leave you two to it then,” Changkyun said, noticing the tone of the conversation was about to change. “And you,” he pointed at Minhyuk, “stay away from my Won, you weirdo.”

Minhyuk let out an indignant squawk, but Changkyun turned around and walked hurriedly towards the carriage before Minhyuk could react further. Jooheon watched his friend board the carriage, watched it move away and out of sight, and sighed. At least they were on good terms again, no matter how Changkyun’s new lifestyle worried him. Maybe he could keep him grounded since he would come to visit him more often. Changkyun needed to be reminded of who he was sometimes. Where he came from.

Jooheon then turned around and began making his way back to the monkeys; they would probably be restless because of their delayed lunch. That meant more things thrown at him. Maybe some hair pulling.  _ That _ he wouldn’t miss when the circus left.

Minhyuk, on the other hand—

“Honey!” he called, and Jooheon heard him hurrying after him, trying to keep up with his fast pace. “You really don’t believe me?”

“I don’t know,” he replied as honestly as he could. “I wasn’t there, I didn’t see it, so you can believe whatever it is you want to believe.”

“Isn’t my word enough?”

Jooheon shrugged. “Sorry.”

He heard Minhyuk sigh, clearly admitting defeat. Jooheon felt bad, of course he did, but what else could he do? Minhyuk’s story wasn’t exactly believable and, if it was real, then Jooheon wanted nothing to do with it. Better to let it rest.

Minhyuk, however, didn’t walk away once Jooheon showed no interest in his story. No. Instead, he continued walking next to him, saying nothing. That was uncharacteristic coming from Minhyuk - he never stopped talking. He was always chattering away about something, but there he was, walking next to him in complete silence. It was as strange as the silence he’d shared with Changkyun earlier, though for very different reasons.

This silence was more charged, more things unsaid hanging over them. Jooheon tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach, how close Minhyuk was to him, close enough that the backs of their hands sometimes brushed as they walked. He wanted to hold Minhyuk’s hand. He made a fist instead, to stop himself from giving in to that wish.

Minhyuk still didn’t leave. He stoutly remained at his side, doing nothing, saying nothing, and when they were almost reaching the area where the monkeys were kept was that Jooheon finally stopped walking. Minhyuk stopped a couple of steps ahead and turned to face him, a quizzical expression on his face like he didn’t understand why Jooheon had stopped. As if it weren’t obvious.

“Do you need something?” Jooheon asked after a few seconds of staring at each other.

Minhyuk shook his head and gave Jooheon a little smile. “No. I just thought we could spend some time together.”

“Uh… I have to go feed the monkeys.”

What Jooheon wanted to accomplish by giving out that information was a mystery even to himself - regardless, be it to hint that Minhyuk should leave or invite him to come along, Minhyuk had his mind made up already.

“I’m coming with you.”

“They throw things, though.”

“That’s alright.”

Well then. He nodded to agree and continued walking; his ears felt conspicuously warm. Minhyuk fell into step with him with ease, and the silence this time, while still heavy with all the unspoken words they couldn’t - wouldn’t - say, felt more comfortable. Easy. Minhyuk’s presence itself was comfortable, always had been - good at reading people as he was, Minhyuk wasn’t the type to judge others. Jooheon could be himself if he wanted to be, and he knew Minhyuk would just accept him the way he was.

Enough or not, at least he knew Minhyuk wouldn’t look down on him.

And maybe -  _ maybe _ \- it was alright to spend time with him. He’d come to terms with Minhyuk’s departure, accepted that his feelings would never be returned, that his life would be rather lonely for the foreseeable future. He wasn’t happy about it, but he accepted it; no point in struggling against things out of his control, after all. From that perspective, a realistic one, being around Minhyuk didn’t feel as dangerous - he just wouldn’t expect anything from him. He would just enjoy his company while he still could, then say goodbye and let time work its magic to erase him from his memory.

When he chanced a glance towards Minhyuk and found him already looking, Jooheon allowed himself to smile at him. He had a limited amount of time to do so - might as well take the chance.

Minhyuk’s cheeks went pink and he smiled back, sunny and blinding.

Jooheon suddenly didn’t feel so confident he would be able to forget. 

◦ ◦ ◦

The sound of his lovers giggling greeted Kihyun when he arrived home after his meeting with Hyungwon, making him smile to himself instinctively. They were both safe and well. Alive.

Good.

“It tickles!” he heard Hoseok squeal.

“Stop moving or I’ll end up hurting you,” Hyunwoo replied, laughing despite his attempt at sounding stern.

“I’m trying, you know how sensitive I am there.”

Kihyun frowned then. Were they—?

He would smack them both in the back of the head if they were. They were sick, they shouldn’t— be getting frisky. With a tired sigh, Kihyun cautiously made his way to their bedroom, where their voices were coming from.

The scene he found made him stop and stare, another smile finding its way to his face.

Hoseok was sitting on a chair with his head tipped back, biting his lips to keep himself from laughing and squirming, and Hyunwoo was very carefully shaving him. He was almost done by then, Kihyun noted - just finishing up under Hoseok’s jaw. Everything made sense now. Hoseok was almost criminally ticklish in that area, so of course, Hyunwoo would have a hard time.

Kihyun leaned against the doorframe, watching the two of them fondly. The look of concentration in Hyunwoo’s face, the bits of shaving soap that were still peppering Hoseok’s cheeks.

Three months. Five years.

His chest was tight with those prospects. Such little time. Not enough. Never enough. Eternity with them would not be enough, and greedy as Kihyun was, he could still accept that, someday, it would end. They would end.

If only it didn’t have to be so soon—

Hyunwoo was the first to notice his presence, and he turned to him once he was done shaving Hoseok’s neck and smiled. “Ki, I didn’t hear you come in.”

Hoseok heard the comment and looked over at him, also smiling brightly. The tightness in Kihyun’s chest worsened. “Welcome back.”

Kihyun pushed himself off the doorframe to approach his lovers, pausing to give a kiss to the corner of Hyunwoo’s mouth before stopping next to Hoseok and leaning down to press a long kiss to his cheek. He made a face when he pulled back. “You taste like soap.”

“Jeez, I wonder why,” he deadpanned. Hyunwoo snorted at the comment, and Kihyun only knocked gently on the side of Hoseok’s head with his knuckles.

“Shush.”

He motioned for Hyunwoo to hand him the towel he had hanging on his shoulder, which he promptly did, and Kihyun took it upon himself to wipe away all the remnants of foam from Hoseok’s face. Hyunwoo watched them for a moment with a placid expression on his face, before he left to return all the items he’d used to the bathroom, where they belonged.

“Do I look good?” Hoseok asked as Kihyun finished his task and hung the towel on the back of the chair, and Kihyun couldn’t help but smile and squeeze his now smooth cheeks with his palms until his lips were jutting out, making Hoseok look like a particularly handsome fish.

“You always look good,” he replied and placed a kiss on the tip of Hoseok’s nose. Hoseok giggled at the action.

Kihyun’s chest felt so tight he could barely breathe.

Three months.

Unable to help himself, because it’d been so long, because he might not have many chances in the future, Kihyun kissed Hoseok’s lips. Not the corner this time. Not safe.

Hoseok’s eyes went wide and he jerked his head back. “Ki, what are you doing!?”

Kihyun blinked and shrugged, unfazed by his reaction. He didn’t fault him for it - maybe he should have given him a warning, say ‘hey, I’m about to kiss you, I don’t care about contagion’. At that point, he truly did not care.

“I’m kissing my boyfriend,” he said, simplistic and nonchalant. Hoseok only watched him with shock, likely thinking he’d gone mad; maybe he had. “Come on, bunny, back to bed.”

Hoseok allowed Kihyun to pull him up from the chair and walk him the couple of steps necessary to get to the bed, looking dazed. And all that for one kiss. “Did something happen? Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine,” Kihyun said, waiting for Hoseok to get comfortable on the bed before climbing in next to him. He snuggled up against him, laced one arm over his middle, draped one leg over his, much like a sloth hugging its favorite tree branch. Hoseok allowed him to do so, even if he was still looking puzzled. “I just had a long morning.”

One very long, very draining morning. It felt as if his brain had been scrambled inside his skull, and the goo that was left behind wasn’t able to function as it should. He just felt tired. Tired and numb with fear. With dread. With grief. Everything had settled inside him like a bubbling cauldron of terrible feelings slowly dripping sticky hot tar over his heart.

Hyungwon’s voice kept echoing in the walls of his mind. Three months. No hope. Too late. Five years. Might make it.

_ Might _ .

‘Might’ wasn’t enough.

And what of the cost? What if Hyungwon asked something of him he couldn’t provide or perform? Would he take his miracle back, snuff out the life out of Hoseok and Hyunwoo with a motion of his hand? If his so-called miracle even worked, that is. Kihyun didn’t believe it - everything sounded too easy. Too fantastical. A miracle in exchange for a favor, and wasn’t that an unbalanced trade? He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe Hyungwon.

It didn’t help that the man himself was a walking mystery box. He knew too much, concealed too much. He came out as kind and helpful, but who was to say he didn’t have an ulterior motive?

No. No, he couldn’t trust him.

_ Three months _ .

Kihyun closed his eyes and held Hoseok tighter, as if that would keep him from the Reaper’s cold grasp. He had already decided to do anything he possibly could to save them, but Hyungwon’s deal felt like a gamble too risky to take - and yet the alternatives were just as risky. As Hyungwon had said, treatment wasn’t a promise of recovery. He could throw all his money into getting his loves into the best facility in the world and they might still succumb to the illness.

Hyungwon had promised a cure that was guaranteed without any proof it actually existed.

No matter which side of the tightrope Kihyun decided to fall from, there was no safety net in sight. He could plummet headfirst into solid, deadly ground, or— he would miraculously sprout wings, like Hyungwon said.

It all came down to Kihyun’s conscience, in the end. He could feel in his bones that, even if Hyungwon’s cure works, whatever he requests of him will leave a mark in his soul. His dignity, his morals.  _ Consequences _ , Hyungwon said. Consequences he would have to accept blindly.

He wanted to sleep. He wanted to let Hoseok’s steady heartbeat lull him to sleep, he wanted to turn off his thoughts like a lamp and only turn them back on when he felt like a person again. Right now, all he felt like was a big lump of flesh and bone and doubt.

He heard Hyunwoo returning to the room and, without opening his eyes, motioned for him to join them on the bed. After a few seconds, he felt the bed dip behind him and the weight of Hyunwoo’s arm around him, and  _ that _ — that was what he needed. Just to be with both his lovers, feel the rhythm of their breathing, the warmth of their bodies, their very presence. Maybe if he soaked in it, absorbed it like a sponge would absorb water, he would be able to clear his mind enough to make a decision.

Unlikely, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“Are you alright?” Hyunwoo asked softly next to his ear.

Right - Hyunwoo hadn’t been there when Hoseok asked him that same question. “I’m fine, I just had a meeting with a difficult client.”

_ The most difficult client of all, _ he added in thoughts. 

Hyunwoo held him tighter and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Want to talk about it?”

“No, it’s alright,” he said. “I just need to stay here for a while longer.”

“Will you stay home today?” Hoseok asked.

“No, I have to drop by the warehouse later. I’ll stay for lunch, though.”

“We can leave together, I have the afternoon shift at the docks today,” said Hyunwoo.

“Sounds good,” he said, his voice a bit slurred with how fatigued he felt. Lying there with his lovers, surrounded by warmth, almost made him give up his plans and cancel all his appointments just so he could stay home, stay right where he was.

“Since you are both here,” Hoseok suddenly said, “can you please tell me why you two were fighting a couple of days ago?”

And there went his desire to stay home, right out the window.

Hyunwoo noticed Kihyun wasn’t in the right state of mind to talk about it and said to Hoseok, “Let’s save that conversation for a day Kihyun is more alert.”

“Sorry, bunny,” Kihyun said, giving Hoseok a pat on the arm apologetically. “We will tell you all about it soon.”

Hoseok huffed, clearly frustrated. “How soon?”

“Soon,” Hyunwoo said, in a gentle tone that was still firm enough to make it clear they were done talking about it. Kihyun couldn’t even imagine how Hyunwoo was feeling - if Kihyun was hesitant to tell Hoseok, then Hyunwoo would likely prefer to have a swim in a tank full of rabid sharks than to talk to him about it.

No matter where he looked, everything was falling apart. He was tired. He was so very tired. Tired of fighting, tired of hoping, tired of living each day as if it were their last. He was tired of trying to commit every single one of Hoseok’s smiles to memory, his voice, his expressions, tired of filing everything away in his mind as if any of it would help him make it through that bleak future they were facing. It wouldn’t. Nothing would.

If only he could trust Hyungwon and his offer. The thought of a magical solution was enticing, it called to him like a siren song. And how would he not be tempted - it was something he’d only ever dreamed about, for a mystery person to swoop in and say ‘here are the answers to all your troubles’ and solve everything, just like that. It was unrealistic and naive. He wasn’t a child anymore, making wishes at the stars thinking they would come true, and what Hyungwon represented was just that - a wish on a star.

Then, remembering another thing Hyungwon had mentioned, he tipped his head up to look at Hoseok and asked, “Do we have any books about Greek mythology?”

Hoseok frowned, becoming confused again. Kihyun couldn’t blame him. “No, I don’t think we do. Why do you ask?”

A shrug. “No reason.”

He settled back in his previous position, head atop Hoseok’s chest and eyes closed. He could physically feel Hyunwoo and Hoseok exchanging a look over him, having a silent conversation regarding how odd he was acting, but Kihyun didn’t care.

He didn’t care about a lot of things anymore.

◦ ◦ ◦

That day was going much better than Changkyun had expected. He wasn’t truly counting on Jooheon forgiving him, and that they were able to put their differences aside and try to see eye to eye was already enough to make that day great, but his date with Hyungwon was also another factor that added to it.

They had lunch at an expensive restaurant, one Changkyun had walked by several times before, always wondering at what was so incredible about it that the food costs so much. As it turned out, the food was very good but not nearly as amazing as Mrs. Kim’s cooking. What made the place expensive was the clientele - rich people, he learned, only ventured into places that felt, looked, and smelled as rich as them. Changkyun never saw an aristocrat buying a sandwich from a street vendor, at least.

The experience of having a meal at such a place was new and, in all honesty, he enjoyed it greatly. The service was good, the food was good, and he had the company of his favorite person in the world - what’s not to like?

And also— it made him feel superior. Not something he should be proud to admit, but he did.

It felt nice.

It felt like something he could get used to.

Although maybe he shouldn’t get used to feeling better than everyone else. That would just make him an asshole.

After lunch, they spent some time walking up the boulevard that held several stores, window-shopping for the most part even though they had bought a few trinkets on Changkyun’s insistence - he’d never really had the chance to buy silly things for himself, like the ridiculously expensive music box he’d gotten. He always wanted to own one, ever since he was a small boy.

Hyungwon was just too happy to go along with Changkyun’s whims, simply watching him with a fond expression on his face and encouraging him to buy himself new things, as pointless as they seemed to be.

They were walking back to the carriage, already late afternoon, after deciding they were tired and it was time to go home. There were fewer people around by then, more room to move around on the sidewalk, but Changkyun kept walking as close to Hyungwon as propriety would allow. He wished they could walk with their arms linked like the many other ‘normal’ couples they passed during the day. Something simple and harmless and yet, if they were to do it, they would fall victim to the wrong sort of scrutiny. Changkyun hated it.

He took what he could get - being with Hyungwon was enough, even if they couldn’t walk in public wrapped around each other.

“I still can’t believe Minhyuk thought you disappeared into thin air,” Changkyun commented, making Hyungwon laugh.

“I didn’t disappear, I went inside the carriage. It was right next to an alley, he might have missed it.”

“He kept telling us you are a ghost.”

Hyungwon rolled his eyes, grinning to himself. “I am most definitely not a ghost.”

“Oh, I know how very solid you are.”

“Do you ever think of anything else, you little degenerate?”

“On occasion.”

Hyungwon laughed again and nudged him playfully with his arm. In a more serious tone, he said, “I’m at least glad you made peace with your friend.”

Changkyun entire demeanor softened. “Yes, I am glad too. I invited him over to the mansion.”

“Did he say yes?”

“He said he’ll think about it.”

“I promise to stay out of the way if he comes for a visit,” Hyungwon said, holding a hand to his chest solemnly.

“And you won’t scare him anymore?”

Hyungwon made a face. “I— I’m not sure I can help myself.”

“Won.”

“He’s so easy!”

“ _ Won. _ ”

Hyungwon’s nose scrunched up and his mouth twisted, as if he was truly struggling with the idea for a moment, before saying, “Ugh, fine. For you, I’ll make an effort.”

“Thank you, that’s all I’m asking.”

“How is Jooheon, by the way?” Hyungwon asked. His tone was casual, even if it seemed he was trying to get into a specific subject from that branch of conversation. “He must be doing fine if Minhyuk has so much time to spare to follow me around. I’d think he would want to be around his sad boyfriend instead.”

Ah, so that’s what it was. Changkyun sighed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, baby, but… I think you were wrong.”

“No, I was not.”

“Yes, you were,” he insisted. “Minhyuk is leaving with the circus soon.”

Hyungwon snorted. “No, he’s not.”

“He is. Jooheon told me.”

“I’m never wrong.”

“I’m telling you, this time, you are.”

“And I’m telling you that I’m not wrong. It hasn’t happened yet, but it will.”

Changkyun gave Hyungwon a sideways look. “Don’t say that to Jooheon, I don’t want him to get his hopes up.”

“I thought your plan was to tease him about it.”

“Yes, but things change and—” he interrupted himself when the display window of a shop caught his eyes, and he stopped walking and held onto Hyungwon’s sleeve, giving it a soft tug to catch his attention. “Won.”

Hyungwon hummed questioningly as he also stopped walking and turned around to look at Changkyun. He followed his gaze to the sign over the store’s door and arched an eyebrow. “A photographer?”

Changkyun tugged on Hyungwon’s sleeve again and smiled. “Let’s take a photo together.”

Hyungwon stared at him for a long moment as if he’d suddenly began speaking a different language. “Changkyun… you already know I can’t be photographed.”

“Yes, but I want to have a photo of us together, even if your face is blurry in it.”

Hyungwon continued to stare at him for a few seconds longer before sighing and shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe him. Despite everything about his body language and expression screaming ‘reluctant’, Hyungwon motioned towards the door to signal Changkyun to go in, and Changkyun dragged him along unceremoniously; he didn’t want to give his lover a chance to change his mind. He wanted a picture with him, and he would have it even if had to draw a face for Hyungwon later. 

The small interior of the shop was cramped with shelves and displays showcasing various framed photographs, postcards, empty frames of different sizes, even a few photography cameras for sale at one corner. At the back of the room was a small space prepared for photos to be taken, a set that included a cream-colored curtain as background and an armchair of deep green velvet. It was a simple shop, and Changkyun preferred it like that - he just wanted a photo with his lover, quick and easy, no time wasted on making silly choices of backdrop and props.

There was a tall, thin man behind the counter whose face lit up at the sight of them. “Welcome, gentlemen! What can I do for you today?”

Changkyun decided to take the reins of the situation, as Hyungwon was still not entirely on board with his sudden idea. “Good afternoon,” he said, a polite smile on his face. “We would like our photograph taken, if that is possible.”

“Of course, sir!” The man shuffled from behind the corner to approach the camera already prepared in front of the set. “What kind of photograph do you want?”

“Do you do cartes?”

“Absolutely, four pieces or eight?”

“Four is fine,” he replied, then looked up at Hyungwon with a cheeky grin on his face. “Two copies for me, two for you.”

Hyungwon simply sighed in response, looking amused, and together they followed the man to the corner where the curtain and armchair were. They left the box with Changkyun’s purchases on the counter on the way and, once there, he gestured for Hyungwon to sit on the armchair, which he did without complaint. Changkyun then positioned himself partially behind him, body turned at an angle and one hand resting on Hyungwon’s shoulder - they couldn’t take a picture looking like an actual couple, but Changkyun would be damned if he wasn’t at least touching Hyungwon in some way. Hyungwon didn’t seem to mind, merely shifting on the chair to find a good position - long legs crossed, one hand on the armrest, the other on his lap. Simple.

Not that Hyungwon needed to do much to look good. Even if he just sat there like a stiff mannequin he would come out looking like a fairytale prince.

“Please, try to remain very still,” the photographer said. “Blink as little as you can.”

“We’re ready,” Changkyun said. Hyungwon didn’t protest the affirmation.

“Very well, I’ll begin,” the man said as he prepared himself under the thick black fabric draped over the back of the camera, “one, two— three.”

He raised the thin board that covered the front of the camera, revealing four lenses in a square pattern; Changkyun had taken photographs like those in the past, the last time being with a camera with eight lenses - that time he’d been with Jooheon, and the process was not the same. They’d wanted their cartes to be all different, meaning only one lens could be uncovered at a time so it would capture different images on each plate. This time around there would only be one image repeated four times, so all the lenses were supposed to work at the same time.

Photography was a fascinating subject - now that he had money, he might take it up as a hobby.

Would Hyungwon be opposed to posing for him in the nude, he wondered.

Lost in those thoughts, the several seconds it took for the photo to be taken went by fast, and Changkyun nearly flinched when the man announced they could move.

“I’ll reveal these right now, it’ll take a few minutes,” the photographer said as he stepped out from behind the camera with a wide smile on his face. “I believe it will turn out very good.”

“I’m sure it will,” Changkyun replied with a smile of his own.

The man left with the camera to prepare their photos and, once alone, Changkyun stepped around the chair to stop in front of Hyungwon. Hyungwon looked up at him, expression unreadable and eyes glimmering.

“Happy?” he asked.

“Very,” Changkyun answered. “Even if your face doesn’t show, your body will look lovely.”

Hyungwon rolled his eyes as he chuckled through his nose. “You are impossible.”

“I have my moments.”

Changkyun shot Hyungwon a wink that was met with yet another eye-roll, and left to wander around the shop. Hyungwon stood from the chair to wait by the counter with the rest of their belongings, looking at the postcards on display on a tabletop rack with mild interest. Changkyun felt a bit guilty for forcing that particular whim of his onto Hyungwon, knowing he didn’t enjoy feeling like anything less - or more - than human. It would likely be unpleasant for him when the photographer came out from the dark room saying there was a problem with the photograph and they would have to take another one, and then convince the man it was alright and they would accept the picture regardless of how it turned out. Hyungwon would likely sulk for the rest of the day, even if he never admitted to be bothered by it.

He made a mental note to make it up to his boyfriend later once they were home.

He walked through the shelves aimlessly, his gaze not lingering on any photograph for too long. His thoughts were scattered after the long day they had, mind jumping from one topic to another too fast for him to grasp them. When he finally caught one, the thought summoned once his eyes fell on a particularly creepy photograph of a small child dressed in black, he turned to Hyungwon.

“You collect mourning jewelry,” he began without preamble, and Hyungwon turned to him fully to give him attention. “Do you collect mourning photographs as well?”

“I don’t,” Hyungwon replied with a brief shrug. “I do own a couple of photos that have been gifted to me by patrons, but I don’t deliberately procure them.”

“Why not? Too morbid?”

Hyungwon gave him an unimpressed look. “I speak directly to the dead - nothing is too morbid for me.”

“Then why?” Changkyun pressed on as he returned to Hyungwon’s side. Better to talk in closer proximity so they wouldn’t have to shout about dead people memorabilia inside a respectable, public establishment.

“I suppose it’s because I don’t feel so attached to photographs. Mourning jewelry is made with a piece of the person, something you can take with you wherever you go. A photograph, while immortalizing the image of someone, is not—  _ them _ . It’s nice if you want to look at their face, see them again, but I personally prefer the jewelry.”

Changkyun hummed, considering. There was logic to his words, he would give him that - he found mourning jewelry far too creepy to be of the same mind as Hyungwon, but he could understand what he meant. That led him to his next question. “So you don’t have a photograph of the mysterious scorpion necklace woman?”

Hyungwon snorted. “‘Mysterious scorpion necklace woman’, what a mouthful.”

“I don’t know her name, this is the next best thing.”

“Right.” Hyungwon gave him a sideways smile, and he seemed amused with something only he knew about. Changkyun wished they were somewhere private so he could kiss that smug smile out of his face. “No, I don’t have a photograph of her.”

And it seemed Changkyun wouldn’t be able to extract her name from his lips either. He didn’t want to drop the subject so easily, though; stopping by the counter next to Hyungwon, Changkyun asked. “What did she look like?”

Hyungwon blinked slowly at him and turned to lean on the counter, elbow propped up on the polished wood and chin resting on his hand. “Pretty.”

Changkyun clicked his tongue, starting to get annoyed. “Pretty how?”

“You are not letting this go, are you?” Hyungwon asked as his grin widened. He didn’t seem bothered by the questions - instead, he appeared to find them entertaining for some ungodly reason. “Black hair, dark brown eyes, round lips.”

Changkyun arched an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “Isn’t that a description of me?”

“It is, isn’t it?” Hyungwon’s grin widened further, like the cat who caught the canary. Or, in their case, the mouse.

Changkyun huffed, now truly beginning to get annoyed. “Fine. How tall was she?”

“About your height.”

“Hyungwon!”

“What? She was,” he said, cocking his head to the side. His eyes were sparkling with mischief. “I might have a type.”

“Fine, if that’s how you want to play it—”

“I have always had a soft spot for stubborn brunettes with deep voices and striking noses.”

“She had a deep voice too!?”

“And a striking nose,” Hyungwon concluded. Changkyun wasn’t sure if he was being serious or just messing with his head.

If he was being serious, then— was Hyungwon only interested in him because he reminded him of his first love? The thought made him sick to his stomach, but he forced himself not to display how affected he was by it. Not now, in public, where the conversation could escalate into something he would rather remain private.

But of course, as always, Hyungwon knew it all no matter how much Changkyun tried to hide it. “Kyun?”

“What?” he asked, a bit more harshly than intended.

Hyungwon wasn’t fazed by it, calmly reaching with his free hand to take Changkyun’s, lacing their fingers together the slightest bit. His expression was soft, softer than it usually was when he looked at him. Changkyun’s heart did somersaults in his chest. “You’re the love of my life.  _ You _ .”

The words were said in a quiet voice, intimate, private, and Changkyun knew it was the truth. He knew when Hyungwon lied, he knew when he was hiding something, and he knew when he was being honest - and he was.

It was enough.

“You’re the love of my life, too,” he said back.

Hyungwon smiled at him, expression still soft, eyes warm. “I know.”

The response elicited a chuckle from Changkyun. “I hate you so much sometimes.”

“I know that as well.”

Changkyun allowed himself to smile back at Hyungwon and, giving his hand a squeeze, he retreated his own into the front pocket of his trousers. “Did she really look like me?”

Hyungwon nodded. “She did.”

“But not  _ exactly _ like me, I assume.”

“Well, no,” he granted. His face scrunched up as he pondered his words for a moment. “She had impossibly long hair, past her waist.” Changkyun felt a cold sting in his chest, but tried not to worry - many women had long hair past their waist, it didn’t mean that the woman he’d seen at the mansion was Hyungwon former lover. And then Hyungwon delivered the confirmation. “She used to braid it and tie it with red ribbons to keep it away from her face.”

Changkyun’s eyes went wide, jaw tense, and he stood there as if his limbs had been frozen. Hyungwon noticed his shock and frowned, looking at him with concern in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Before Changkyun could even consider a reply, the owner of the shop returned from the back room, a brown envelope in his hands and a bright smile on his face. Changkyun startled, but somehow managed to smile politely at men and not give away that he had just been shocked out of his wits.

He saw Hyungwon’s past lover. At the mansion. Haunting the halls. Haunting  _ him _ .

He would need a moment to process it once they got home.

“All done!” the shop’s owner declared. Changkyun waited for him to mention something about a problem in the photographs. None came.

Sharing a glance with Hyungwon, as both of them had taken notice, Changkyun asked, “Did the photograph turn out well?”

“Oh, yes,” the man said. Changkyun tried not to look surprised as he fished some money from his pocket to pay for the service. “You are both very photogenic young men.”

Again, Changkyun tried not to appear anything other than pleased with the words, and, taking the envelope with their pictures and wishing the man a good day, he left the store with Hyungwon at a pace that was hurried, but not enough to seem rude. They didn’t want to look as if they were running away.

They weren’t running away, they were just pressed to find out if the photos had truly come out alright or if the owner was simply making easy money. Maybe he was too lazy to take a second one.

Curiosity gnawing at them, they made it back to the carriage in record time and only then, safe in the confines of their coach, curtains covering the small windows and heads almost knocking together as they huddled close to each other to see the photos, was that Changkyun slipped them out of the envelope.

There was a stretch of silence as they stared at the pictures. Hyungwon was the first to react, a simple “oh” escaping his lips.

There they were, both with their faces clear, visible, no smudges anywhere in the image. Hyungwon, as Changkyun had assumed, looked gorgeous in the photograph, expression serious and eyes intense, his head tilted towards the hand Changkyun had on his shoulder. He hadn’t noticed Hyungwon was doing so as they took the photo.

“Well,” Hyungwon said, taking the topmost picture from the stack of four they had paid for. “Few things surprise me nowadays. How very refreshing.”

“How—” Changkyun started, interrupting himself when laughter bubbled out of him. “What does this mean? Are you free of your ghosts?”

“Oh no, they are definitely still here,” Hyungwon replied, bitter.

“Maybe it was the camera?” Changkyun suggested, looking up at his lover. Hyungwon was staring at the photo in his hand with a deep hitch between his brows, as if trying to decipher a difficult puzzle. “It could have been a newer model.”

“Maybe,” Hyungwon muttered, eyes not moving from the picture. After a few seconds, he sighed as if giving up and smiled at Changkyun. “It seems you have a picture of me to put in your locket now.”

Changkyun’s spirits lifted at the comment and he beamed at Hyungwon. “You’re right! I wasn’t expecting it to— I thought it would be blurry again.”

“As did I.”

“Do you think it was because I was there?” Changkyun suggested, taking another picture from the stack and handing it to Hyungwon - two for each of them. “I had my hand on your shoulder.”

Hyungwon gave him a dubious look. “I don’t know—”

“Because there was that entire magnetism between us when we met, pushing us together,” he continued his prattling. “Maybe I’m your anchor to the natural world. I’m your stabilizer. I’m here to balance your abilities.”

Hyungwon let out a soft chuckle and leaned his head on Changkyun’s shoulder, snuggling up against him without bothering to restrain himself from displaying his affection. After an entire day of having to behave themselves in public, the action was relieving for them both. “While I don’t believe this is the actual reason behind it— this is what I want to choose to believe.”

Changkyun smiled and pressed a long kiss to Hyungwon’s forehead. “Then that’s what it is.” He stared at the photograph on his hand for a few seconds longer, tracing Hyungwon’s features with his eyes in absolute awe at the entire situation. Not even the movement of the carriage tore his gaze away from the image so enthralled he was.

“You look stunning,” he murmured at last.

Hyungwon made a cute noise in the back of his throat, something between a squeak and a giggle. “Thank you.”

“I might get a camera of my own, learn how to take pictures,” Changkyun voiced the thought that wafted through his mind earlier, grinning down at Hyungwon mischievously. “If you photograph this well dressed, I can't even begin to imagine how lovely you’d photograph nude.”

Hyungwon sighed and pushed himself away from Changkyun, shaking his head. There was a smile trying to break free, but Hyungwon managed to keep it mostly contained.

“You had to go and ruin the moment.”

Changkyun’s only answer was to laugh.

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, thank you so much everyone who is still following this story, and thank you all new readers; things have been awful lately, so i hope reading my story has at least helped you forget the shitshow that is reality right now.
> 
> if you haven't yet, please make sure to leave me some kudos to let me know if you're enjoying the story so far! i think i've mentioned this before, but kudos are to me what applause is for tinkerbell, so. yeah.
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this chapter. five more to go!
> 
> thanks for reading!♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ghostlike91) | [tumblr](https://ghostlike91.tumblr.com/) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/ghostlike)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for... idk, dumbassery and general spooks, i guess.
> 
> i honestly don't even know what this chapter is supposed to be, it's like, filler, but important things happen so it's in a weird limbo of relevancy? i hope you enjoy it either way!♡

◦

Minhyuk closed the trunk that contained his fortune-telling props and sighed. The last performance of the circus had come and gone and he still hadn’t found a way to talk to Jooheon about his intentions. Two days after his strange experience with Hyungwon near the cathedral,  _ two entire days _ and he didn’t find Jooheon a gift, didn’t come up with any words to say, couldn’t even put down his feelings on paper - the idea was to write a letter and ask Jooheon to only read it once he left, to lessen his shame, but he couldn’t even do that.

Now there he was, at the end of the night, all the patrons gone from the grounds, stall owners packing up what was left of their wares, the workers starting to tear down the main tent. He’d watched them put all the structures together when they arrived, and now watching them take it all down - so fast, so very fast - finally delivered that final punch of reality: it was over. The circus was leaving.

He was leaving.

He didn’t know if Jooheon had gone home already or if he was still around somewhere. He knew Jooheon had stayed to watch the last performance, but that being the last night he’d been too busy to join him - too many patrons, too many people enjoying the carnival while they still could. He made good money, at least.

If Jooheon had left, should he drop by his apartment to say goodbye properly? He didn’t want to just— leave. Without a word, just like that. Jooheon deserved better than that, even if Minhyuk didn’t believe he would ever quite achieve the level of goodness and perfection Jooheon deserved. Jooheon deserved sunshine and rainbows and puppies and the largest piece of cake— no, the whole cake. Jooheon deserved the stars. No, the moon. No - the very sun. Jooheon deserved the whole damn universe.

If only he could give him everything, anything other than disappointment and half-promises.

It was probably for the best he was leaving - Jooheon should have the chance to find someone better than him, someone capable of— staying. Someone capable of making a commitment and sticking to it no matter how rough things got.

Minhyuk was not that someone, and he was quite aware of this.

He hated it.

“Why the long face?”

Minhyuk yelped, close to jumping off his skin with fright when Mark’s voice sounded right next to him. Mark raised both hands as a sign he meant him no harm.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Mark said. He didn’t look very apologetic - in fact, he appeared to be finding the whole situation hilarious.

Minhyuk huffed, one hand on his chest as if that would help calm his frantic heart. “‘S fine. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You look as if someone fed you crap after calling it ice cream.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Minhyuk said, not at all in the mood for jokes. “Say, have you seen Jooheon anywhere?”

“Jooheon?” Mark echoed, one of his eyebrows rising. “I saw him enter Barya’s pen a few minutes ago, why?”

Minhyuk tried not to show how relieved and happy he was to hear Jooheon was still on the grounds. “No reason, I just had something to talk to him about, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What?”

“Minhyuk—” Mark started and then cut himself off with a sigh, shaking his head slowly. “If you like the guy…”

“I don’t!” Minhyuk said out of pure instinct. “We’re just friends. He’s my friend.”

“Alright, alright,” Mark said and raised his hands again. He wished he could introduce Mark’s nose to his knee if only to get him to stop grinning at him like that. “I’m just saying, we’re leaving in the morning, and you clearly have something going on with Jooheon—”

“There’s nothing going on between me and him, where did you get that from?” Minhyuk asked, a burst of forced laughter accompanying his words. 

“As you say,” Mark said, obviously trying to placate him and not because he believed him. “I won’t keep you then, you clearly have a lot to speak to Jooheon about.”

“Right, I do, yes,” Minhyuk said with his chin raised defiantly. “Excuse me.”

Head held high in the most dignified way possible, Minhyuk turned on his heels and marched off to Barya’s pen to see if Jooheon was still there. He probably was - if there was one place where Jooheon liked to linger, it was with the elephant.

As he walked, he tried to figure out what to say. What  _ could _ he say? “ _ Hey Honey, I really like you but I’m afraid of commitment, so can you hold tight until I get past this fear and come back _ ”? He couldn’t say that - that was the most selfish thing he could ever say, and he’d said some very selfish things to Jooheon in the very recent past.

But it was the truth. And the truth was— he was selfish. Not just his words, but Minhyuk himself. He didn’t know how to be any other way and, no matter how much he was willing to try for Jooheon, there was no time. All the time he had, he’d squandered with coming up with silly plans, and fear.

The altruistic thing would be to— let go. Let Jooheon go.

It pained him to consider, but he had no right to be hurt by that decision. He had to do it, not for himself, but for Jooheon. He would do it. He would go to Jooheon, say his goodbyes, be with him for the last time, and he would leave in the morning and never bother him again.

Each step closer to the elephant pen, however, his determination wavered more and more. This was exactly why he avoided getting attached, avoided feelings at all costs - it hurt too much and he wasn’t strong enough to deal with that pain. Keeping his relationships on a surface level was easy. Safe. Just sex, no strings attached -  _ that _ he could do. Getting his heart fixated on someone like it was on Jooheon, though… he couldn’t. He didn’t know how to do it. How to deal with it, what to do with those feelings, and he absolutely didn’t know how to get rid of them.

He had barely gotten over his last serious relationship - emotionally and physically. Going through it again, perhaps not the physical part but the emotional, he simply did not feel as if he was strong enough.

Jooheon— Jooheon was one of a kind, though. He was nothing like any of his previous lovers. In fact, he would go as far as to say he was better than all of them combined. Admitting that to himself only made his decision to let go harder to put into practice, just as it had made it harder not to fall for Jooheon in the beginning.

Yet there he was. Falling rapidly and terrified of hitting the ground.

Alas, flapping his arms would not magically make them wings. All he could do was accept his feelings for what they were and let go.

The elephant pen was a square, semi-open structure that consisted of a tall wooden fence and four high pillars, one on each corner, and a tarp placed over it to protect Barya from the elements. The fence itself was about four meters tall, and lined on the inside with stacks of hay to protect Barya from the eyes of the public, although there were small gaps between the wood beams and the haystacks that allowed one to see inside - which Minhyuk did. He approached the fence calmly and searched around for one of those gaps, even if it wasn’t necessary to do so to make sure Jooheon was inside - he could hear his voice loud and clear.

Talking to the elephant. Minhyuk smiled to himself - of course Jooheon would be talking to the elephant. Or, well,  _ at _ the elephant, as he was fairly sure Barya didn’t reply.

“The monkeys can sod off. The lion and the tiger ignore me so I don’t mind that they’ll leave, but you— you’re a true friend,” Jooheon was saying. Minhyuk finally found a gap he could see through, his smile widening at the sight of Jooheon petting Barya’s trunk. “I’m going to miss you, big girl. You be good to your next caretaker, alright? Trample them if they’re mean to you.”

Minhyuk had to cover his mouth with a hand to contain his laughter.

Jooheon sighed, his words pausing for a moment, before he gave Barya an awkward hug that could barely even be called a hug. “I wish you didn’t have to go. I’d kidnap you if I had somewhere to keep you, but you won’t fit in my tiny apartment.”

Again, Minhyuk struggled to hold back from laughing. Jooheon was too adorable to handle.

And he had to give him up.

That killed his smile very quickly.

Maybe he should leave. Not say goodbye, after all - maybe that would make it easier.

“And keep an eye on Minhyuk, will you?” he heard Jooheon say softly to Barya, and the mention of his name kept him rooted in place. “He gets into trouble a lot, even though he means well.”

Minhyuk closed his eyes, bowed his head. He’d never heard Jooheon speak of him like that, and it— hurt. It made it more difficult for him to leave. More difficult to let go like he’d decided to do. More difficult not to fall.

“I worry about him, you know? A lot,” Jooheon continued. “So look after him for me, make sure he doesn’t get hurt. I mean, he’s very friendly and not everyone out there is nice, I don’t want him to fall in with the wrong person.”

_ Too late _ , Minhyuk bitterly thought. It wasn’t a fair thought for him to have, since Jooheon hadn’t known him long enough to have been able to prevent all the terrible things that had happened to him in the past, so he quickly shoved it away.

Besides, Jooheon was still speaking - Jooheon’s monologue was far more important than any bitterness Minhyuk had in his heart. “And remind him to eat, eating is important and he forgets to eat sometimes. And he doesn’t get enough sleep, sleeping is important too. I’d tell him that myself, but— I don’t know. He might get the wrong impression.”

Minhyuk’s spirits sank further, but only for a second; Jooheon’s wry chuckle distracted him from the feeling.

“What am I saying, I don’t even know what the wrong impression would be. I’ll just miss him.” There was a long pause before Jooheon whispered, “More than I’d like to admit.”

The hope that had just died in him returned, Lazarus rising from the tomb, as fast as the ache in his chest made its comeback like a thousand knives had been pierced through his heart. Jooheon would miss him. Jooheon cared about him. It was too good to believe, too painful to learn now that the end had come.

Jooheon sighed, the sound as desolate as Minhyuk felt. “It doesn’t matter though, it wasn’t meant to be.” Minhyuk shook his head to deny that statement even if Jooheon couldn’t see him. “Maybe in another life. If I were handsome and interesting like Mark I’d stand a chance, I suppose, but— well.” What— No, that was wrong too. “He’ll find someone better and forget all about me in two seconds at the circus’ next stop, I’m sure.”

Wrong.

Everything Jooheon was saying was wrong. Minhyuk finally began moving, outrage forcing him out of his trance, and he made his way around the fence towards the gate, all the while listening for what Jooheon was saying.

“I wish things were different, Barya. I wish he didn’t have to leave, but who am I to ask him to stay?” Jooheon said. Minhyuk wanted to shout that he was the most important person in the world and could ask literally anything of him. He doubled his pace to reach the gate. “He doesn’t want to stay, why would he, I’m hardly a prize.” Minhyuk let out a silent gasp, offended on behalf of Jooheon for the things he was saying about himself. “Look at me, I’m just the guy who cleans the elephant poop - no offense, Barya.”

There was a long pause, just as Minhyuk reached the gate and unlatched it. Jooheon seemed oblivious to his presence still, likely too engrossed in his one-sided conversation with the elephant and distracted by the many other sounds caused by the tents being taken down around them.

“I only hope he’ll be happy there,” Jooheon murmured at the same time Minhyuk entered the pen, which allowed him to hear every word despite how quiet Jooheon’s voice was. “Or wherever he goes.”

Minhyuk held his breath upon hearing Jooheon’s words, learning that Jooheon wished for his happiness; how strange it was that they felt exactly the same way about each other - Minhyuk didn’t think he was good enough for Jooheon either, had decided to let him go for believing he would be doing him a favor because he wanted Jooheon to be happy instead of— trying.

And there was Jooheon, opening his heart to an elephant about wishing happiness for Minhyuk as well. How could he have been so stupid, so blind— 

Taking a deep breath to control his emotions enough to at least sound stable, Minhyuk asked, “Do you mean that?”

Jooheon jumped, feet completely leaving the ground with fright, and whirled around to face Minhyuk, his face burning red. “Wh— when did you get here!?”

Minhyuk ignored the question as he stepped forward. “Honey, do you mean it?”

“M-mean what?” Jooheon stammered, his eyes so wide Minhyuk had the impression they would pop out of their sockets. 

“Everything!” he replied, regretting his fervor the moment Jooheon jerked back with shock. Clearing his throat to try and regain his composure, he said, “I— I didn’t know you cared about me so much.”

Jooheon licked his lips nervously, eyes darting everywhere but Minhyuk’s general direction. “I do.”

A soft breath escaped his parted lips. He wasn’t expecting Jooheon to confirm it so easily. “I care about you too,” Minhyuk confessed with a shaky voice. “I care about you a lot.”

A shy smile appeared on Jooheon’s lips, and Minhyuk took it as a good sign even if he still refused to look at him. And maybe it was for the best that he wasn’t looking - Minhyuk could tell his face was as red as Jooheon’s and he would rather Jooheon looked at him when he wasn’t resembling a human-sized cherry.

Although— Jooheon liked cherries. Maybe it was fine, in that case.

“Thank you,” Jooheon murmured.

“And Honey?” Minhyuk stepped forward, stopping less than an arm’s length away from him. “You— there’s nobody better than you.”

Jooheon raised his gaze to Minhyuk’s out of surprise this time, brown eyes glimmering with shock, and confusion, and - yes - hope. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it,” he insisted. “I don’t understand why you don’t believe me, but it’s the truth. You are— You’re everything.”

Jooheon looked as if he’d just been sucker-punched so shocked was his expression. He wanted to pinch his cheeks, kiss his dimples, anything to make him smile. He didn’t.

Instead, he blurted out, “I’ll write! I’ll write every day!”

Jooheon shook his head. “Don’t.”

“I will!”

“I won’t hold you to it,” he responded as he looked away again. “I’m sure you’ll have better things to occupy your time and mind than writing me letters every day.”

“Didn’t I just tell you there is nobody better than you?” Minhyuk asked, a soft smile that was in equal parts sad and fond on his face. “Just because I’m leaving tomorrow, it doesn’t mean I don’t plan to come back someday.”

Jooheon seemed puzzled at that notion. “You will come back?”

“If you want me to.”

Jooheon chewed on his lips, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he considered it. Minhyuk allowed him a moment, watching him expectantly, and his spirits fell when Jooheon shook his head. “No, I can’t ask you that.”

“You can!”

“I can’t, I have no right to ask anything of you.”

“I’m telling you that you can! You have every right!” He wanted to reach forward to take Jooheon’s hand, thread their fingers together. He didn’t. “You have but to say the word and I’ll give you the moon, Honey.”

Jooheon's cheeks became even redder with embarrassment, but still he chuckled and said, “I don’t want the moon. I wouldn’t have anywhere to put it.”

Minhyuk’s heart tightened with the knowledge he wouldn’t be able to see Jooheon’s smile anymore, hear his laughter. He still found it in himself to laugh at Jooheon’s quip. “You’re right. It’s not a very practical gift.”

“Yeah,” Jooheon said, smiling at the ground. With a voice so quiet Minhyuk barely heard it, he whispered, “I’m going to miss you.”

Minhyuk’s breath got stuck in his lungs. “I’m going to miss you too.”

Jooheon, at last, raised his eyes to meet Minhyuk’s, both of them staring at each other as if there was nothing else in the world, as if Barya wasn’t right next to them looking quite judgmental for an elephant, as if the gate wasn’t open and anyone could walk in on their moment. It was just them and nothing else mattered, and yet— 

Jooheon swallowed audibly and stretched out a hand, inviting Minhyuk to shake it. “Uh— safe travels.”

Minhyuk bit back a mischievous smile and took Jooheon’s hand - not to shake it, though. Faster than Jooheon could react, Minhyuk grabbed him by the hand and pulled him to himself so he could wrap both arms around Jooheon in a tight hug, his face all but buried into the crook of his neck. Jooheon went stiff like a statue in his arms but relaxed soon enough, giving in to Minhyuk’s whims as he so often did.

Minhyuk could melt upon feeling Jooheon embrace him in return, making a note in his thoughts regarding how he never felt so satisfied with something as simple as a hug before, how starved he was for Jooheon to hold him like that, starved enough that he felt ashamed of himself. He fit in his arms so well, he was now certain he belonged there. He didn’t want to let go.

He didn’t want to go.

“I’m going to write every day,” Minhyuk promised again. Jooheon’s hold on him tightened. Minhyuk closed his eyes and wished Jooheon would never let him go, wished he would say the words, ask him to stay. If Jooheon told him to stay, Minhyuk would do so and not give it a second thought.

He wouldn’t. He knew he wouldn’t.

And it was for the best. Leaving was the best option, for himself and for Jooheon, no matter how right it felt having him in his arms. 

“Just take care of yourself out there,” Jooheon replied. “That’s all I want from you.”

Minhyuk held him even tighter, and that was certainly an uncomfortable hug, maybe even painful, but he was too beyond himself to change that. “I can do that and write, I’m great at multitasking.”

Jooheon chuckled next to his ear. Minhyuk shuddered. “Whatever you say.”

Silence fell over them again, thick and terrible, threatening to choke them. There was so much Minhyuk wanted to tell him, so many things left unsaid, but no sound came out of his mouth no matter how much he wanted to say more. By the time Jooheon pulled away from the hug, several seconds later, Minhyuk was still unable to cohesively transfer his thoughts into speech. He looked helplessly into Jooheon’s eyes, so very close to him, and hoped Jooheon could somehow decipher all the feelings he couldn’t put into words.

He couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t, Jooheon was not a mind-reader, didn’t have telepathic abilities. If Minhyuk wished to convey something he would have to remember how to make sounds with his mouth, no matter how impossible that seemed at the moment.

Jooheon began to step away and, in his panic, Minhyuk did the only thing he could think to do since words were failing him.

He grabbed Jooheon’s face with both hands to keep him for slipping away further, not entirely controlling his strength but hoping he wasn’t hurting him, and in a single motion he surged forward and covered Jooheon’s lips with his own.

Again, Jooheon froze. Again, he relaxed after a few seconds. Again, he gave in to Minhyuk’s whims.

Minhyuk could feel him shaking under his hands - or was it him the one who was shaking? He couldn’t tell. He couldn’t tell many things at that moment, not beyond how very soft Jooheon’s lips felt against his, how warm he was, how he didn’t want that moment to ever end. He wanted to kiss him forever. He wanted that press of lips to escalate into something more passionate, wanted to pour his desperation, his need for Jooheon into the kiss, but— fear stopped him. Fear always stopped him, always stood in his way, and Minhyuk was a coward.

It ended, though, as all good things do, too soon. No longer than five seconds passed and that awkward kiss was over, and all it left behind was a lingering tingling on his mouth and mortification in his heart.

He— he just kissed Jooheon.

He kissed Jooheon.

Jooheon, who was staring at him looking dazed, dumbstruck, but not angry. Not disgusted. Not upset. He only looked as shell-shocked as Minhyuk felt.

“I—” Minhyuk stammered, beginning to step back. “I have to—”

Without finishing his sentence, he turned around and hurried outside, heart pounding in time with his footfalls. He couldn’t— he wasn’t strong enough to deal with the aftermath of his actions. He didn’t want to deal with the rejection, or - worse - acceptance. All he wanted was to find a dark corner, curl into a ball, and cry his soul out.

He kissed Jooheon.

He kissed him.

For the first time— and, probably, the last.

◦ ◦ ◦

Hyunwoo closed the door to the bedroom carefully not to make any noise, afraid of waking up Hoseok who had just fallen asleep. It had taken him so long to sleep that night. Pain in his chest, he said. It hurt to breathe.

At one point in time, Hyunwoo would only have been heartbroken for Hoseok, would have struggled with the sight of him in pain, but now— now, when he saw the illness tearing the life out of Hoseok, all claws and teeth, merciless and relentless, he also saw his own future. He saw himself in that bed, dying slowly and in pain, and no matter how strong he tried to appear for himself and Kihyun, he was terrified.

Telling Kihyun had helped; while it didn’t magically cure him, having Kihyun’s support eased him of some of that burden. Being alone in the ship, coughing out blood and wheezing, sweating out a fever that refused to break, firmly believing he would die before he could say goodbye to Kihyun and Hoseok nearly broke him. Now that Kihyun knew, he could at least— talk about it. Share his thoughts with him, hear his words of comfort, crawl into his arms when it all became too much and let him soothe the aching in his soul.

He imagined that telling Hoseok would, too, make it easier; the issue there was the part where they told him. Hoseok would be crushed. He would blame himself, and there would be nothing they could say to convince him otherwise - he  _ was _ the one who gave Hyunwoo the illness, even if that was something entirely out of his control. Hoseok already had so much suffering to deal with, to add another heavy boulder to that load felt almost criminal.

They had to do it, though. Hyunwoo knew that much.

He made his way to the living room slowly, his footsteps hardly making a sound. They learned to move quietly during those years, always afraid of disturbing Hoseok’s rest as if sound would make him sicker. Stupid.

Kihyun was sitting at the table, elbows propped on it, holding his head in his hands. He’d been there for a couple of hours already, pouring over the details of their finances after finally deciding it was time to address the prize money Hyunwoo had won at the fighting tournament.

An odd feeling settled in his chest when he thought about the fighting. He never knew what emotions would float up whenever it crossed his mind. Sometimes he would feel bad about it, guilty - for hiding it, for being so ruthless with his adversaries, for getting caught. Other times he would only find it in himself to miss it, miss the thrill of it, the people screaming his name, cheering him on, the elation to be the victor of a match. During very brief moments, he would resent Kihyun for taking that away from him, but that feeling never lasted and he would never linger on it; it wasn’t Kihyun’s fault. Kihyun didn’t forbid him to do it, only expressed his wish that he wouldn’t go back, and he understood the reasons why he didn’t want him to be involved in it. In Kihyun’s place, he would feel the same if he saw one of his lovers willingly putting himself in danger for sport.

Giving it up left behind a rift, though. Fighting was the way Hyunwoo had found to cope with his feelings, a sort of therapy. Ever since he’d learned he was sick, no, ever since he learned  _ Hoseok _ was sick, he’d been so—  _ angry _ . He was angry all the time, a rage that was always there, right underneath the surface, threatening to erupt out of him. When he was in the pit he could allow that rage to take over. He saw in his opponents the reason why he was sick, and every blow, every punch, felt liberating.

He didn’t have an outlet for that anger anymore. It was still there, coiling inside him like a venomous snake and growing larger and stronger every day. And he could feel it draining his energy. Making him sicker. Keeping it contained took so much out of him—

“Is Hoseok asleep?”

Kihyun’s voice yanked him out of his thoughts and he nodded jerkily in response. He didn’t notice he’d stopped in the middle of the living room and had been standing there for several seconds. Kihyun didn’t question it - they were at a point where any strange behavior or reaction was automatically presumed to be a consequence of their situation, which, sadly, was accurate.

He stepped closer to Kihyun and placed a hand on his back, looking down at the numbers he’d scribbled down. “Is this the final result?”

“Yes,” Kihyun said. His voice sounded rough after the hours spent in silence.

“Is it enough?”

“We could buy a house with this, yes.”

Hyunwoo frowned at his tone. Kihyun had been so intent of saving up to buy a house that he expected him to sound a lot more excited - or excited at all. At that moment, staring at those numbers, Kihyun only sounded - and looked - defeated.

“What’s on your mind?”

“What if buying a house is not enough?” Kihyun whispered. “What if we spend all this money and it doesn’t change anything?”

“The treatment for consumption is fresh air, rest, and exercise,” Hyunwoo said. “We can get those by buying a house in the countryside just as we could get them at a sanatorium - the difference is that, having our own house, we would be able to stay together.”

“And then Hoseok doesn’t get better, you don’t get better, and I’ll be left with a house too big and only grief for company,” Kihyun said, dropping his pen and leaning back on the chair. He looked so tired, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, or crying, or both.

“Buying us a house has been your only goal for years, Ki,” Hyunwoo said as he knelt down next to the chair and grabbed Kihyun’s hand with both his own. “You thought about it so hard, was so certain it would help. What changed?”

“Everything changed,” Kihyun replied, shooting him a sad smile. “The stakes are so much higher now. When it was only Hoseok, I could take comfort in the thought that I’d still have you, that we could carry on together, make the new house a home despite Hoseok’s absence, but now— now I don’t know what to do. I don’t have a plan.”

Hyunwoo lowered his gaze to the floor. The snake inside him stirred and hissed. “We’ll figure it out.”

“We don’t have much time,” Kihyun murmured. Hyunwoo hated to hear those words, hated that there was truth in them. Hoseok’s life was slipping through their fingers like fine sand, and the more they tried to hold on to it, the more it escaped their grasp.

And then he would be next.

The snake hissed louder.

“Are you giving up, then?” he said, feeling like that was the only question he could ask.

Kihyun shook his head. “Never. Whatever decision we make now, though, will probably be our last shot.”

Again, he hated the truth in that statement. If they spent the money they had worked so hard for and it backfired, they would be left with nothing but regret. Putting their savings into a house meant that they would not be able to afford treatment. Investing in treatment would make it impossible for them to get a house.

Neither of those options held a promise that Hoseok would get better. That Hyunwoo himself would get better. They could put all their money and hope into one of them and have it not make any difference, in the end.

Kihyun sighed, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet living room. “We have to tell him.”

Hyunwoo closed his eyes, swallowed the fear. They had to tell Hoseok, get him up to speed with the situation, so the three of them could make a decision together - that’s what Kihyun meant. Or, at least, it was what Hyunwoo took from his statement.

“If tomorrow is one of the good days, we’ll tell him,” he finally said. Kihyun agreed with a weak nod. “Come on, Ki, you should get some sleep.”

“But I still have to—”

“Ki,” Hyunwoo interrupted. “Denying yourself rest won’t help either me or Hoseok.”

Kihyun’s expression twisted, guilt and sadness clear in his features. He was trying too hard to fix everything, working so hard, fighting so hard, yet all Hyunwoo could see at that moment was how Kihyun was coming apart at the seams like a battered ragdoll while trying to hold his stitches together with the might of a lion. It was both awe-inspiring and heartbreaking.

Something in Kihyun had snapped, though. It was clear not only to him but to Hoseok as well - they both noticed the shift. The fire had gone out, leaving behind only embers and ash, and Kihyun was somehow pretending the flame was still burning. He had the drive, but not the energy to fuel it.

It was a dangerous thing. It meant Kihyun could leave behind all reason, all logic, and start making decisions based on urgency alone. Desperation had a hold on him, and desperation is not a reliable counselor.

Hyunwoo got up from the floor and, without a word, took Kihyun in his arms and carried him over to the recliner. He could still do so, was still strong enough for such, and he would take advantage of his strength while he still had it. Kihyun didn’t complain, didn’t scold him for the effort; he let him carry him and, once he’d been placed on the chaise, he grabbed Hyunwoo’s hand and pulled him to join him. Hyunwoo didn’t try to resist.

His primary thought was to squeeze himself next to Kihyun in the narrow space of the recliner, but Kihyun had other ideas - he coaxed him to lie on top of him instead. He did so carefully, afraid of putting his full weight on top of his lover, but he was fairly certain that Kihyun would not mind either way. The moment he settled above him, Kihyun was already wrapping his arms and legs around him, making sure Hyunwoo couldn’t go anywhere for the moment. Again, he didn’t fight it.

Kihyun stared up at him, face a mask of neutrality, giving nothing away; Kihyun had always been good at that, keeping his emotions to himself. It’s what made him a good salesman - he only showed what he wanted others to see.

At that moment, though, it was bothering him not to be able to know what was going on in Kihyun’s mind.

“Are you alright?” Kihyun asked after a long moment of silent staring. Hyunwoo gave him an unimpressed look.

“I’m the one who should be asking you that.”

“I’m not the one who is sick and pretending not to be.”

Hyunwoo looked away. Kihyun had never been one to skirt around difficult topics, but the accusation still managed to catch him off guard. “I’m alright. I haven’t been feeling any worse, at least.”

Kihyun nodded slowly in acknowledgment, one his hands moving to cup his face lovingly. “Tell me if it changes, hm?”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

His reply was a wordless nod that Kihyun accepted without any further insistence. He wasn’t in the mood to talk, was never a talker in general, and Kihyun was well-versed in the art of deciphering entire sentences from something as simple as a nod. So was Hoseok. They both knew him as well as he knew himself - it had been foolish trying to keep a secret from them; he’d never stood a chance of getting away with it.

Kihyun’s hands began to wander - up and down his back, over his shoulders, the sides of his neck. Hyunwoo closed his eyes and let himself melt into the touch, hungry for the physical affection he’d been denying himself. He didn’t dare stay too close to Kihyun for long periods of time, scared he would infect him too, and he couldn’t be too close to Hoseok either because he still didn’t know they were on the same boat and would worry about getting him sick in turn. He missed it so much, that physical proximity, the intimate knowledge they had of each other’s bodies.

He would have that back with Hoseok once he told him, though. Silver linings.

“You’re so tense,” Kihyun commented idly, hands focused on his shoulders.

“I have a lot on my plate,” he replied. “We all do.”

“Mhm,” Kihyun hummed as if considering something. “You miss fighting, don’t you?”

As usual, there goes Kihyun, hitting the nail right on the head with epic precision. There was no point in denying it. “Say what you will about it, punching people in the face can be quite the soul-cleanser.”

Kihyun chuckled through his nose. “I won’t argue that.” He then bit his lips, eyes darting from one point of Hyunwoo’s features to another, not lingering anywhere, his mind miles away.

Kihyun’s mind was always miles away lately, constantly adrift in a turbulent sea of thought with no rescue boat in sight. 

“You know,” he said at last, still looking pensive, “you could release your pent up frustrations on me.”

Hyunwoo jerked back with shock. “What—”

“I don’t mean you should punch me in the face,” Kihyun clarified with an amused smirk on his face.

“...Oh,” Hyunwoo breathed out, certainly sounding very smart. “I— I don’t know, Ki… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me. I trust you and your ability to control your strength.”

“What about the illness?” he asked, searching Kihyun’s expression for any clues regarding his thoughts, his intentions. He was proposing something so risky, something so incredibly reckless, and with no apparent hesitation. “Aren’t you worried you might catch it?”

One of Kihyun’s eyebrows went up. “You didn’t seem too worried about it that night after the circus.”

Hyunwoo grimaced. He should have seen that one coming. “I’m sorry.”

To his surprise, Kihyun smiled at him, not a hint of anger in his eyes. “Don’t be,” he said, his voice softening a bit around the edges though he remained as decisive, as certain as before. “I know I’m not. I don’t regret it.”

Hyunwoo opened and closed his mouth several times, unsure of what to say. Half of him wanted so badly to give in - he missed Kihyun, missed the quiet intimacy they shared, the way they knew each other as well as they knew themselves. The other half, the half of him that was rational, was concerned. Kihyun had always been pragmatic and logical, but  _ this— _ this felt like neither. This felt like… he didn’t even know what to call it. It wasn’t desperation and it wasn’t urgency. Kihyun wasn’t begging. If anything, Kihyun was giving him a gentle nudge, yet the reasons for it eluded him - he couldn’t figure out what to make of it. None of the scenarios in his head were good.

“Ki, if you get sick because of me—”

“Then I’ll get sick,” he interrupted, his voice firm but still not expressing any anger. “I’m tired of being careful when our time together is so short. We sacrifice so much of our relationship already - we don’t kiss, we barely touch, we don’t sleep in the same bed. We might as well truly be brothers.”

Hyunwoo couldn’t hold Kihyun’s gaze, choosing to look beyond his shoulder instead, to the worn fabric of the recliner. He was right. All the concessions they made, all the measures they took to make sure Kihyun would not get infected, was a source of misery for the three of them - it was driving a wedge between them, distancing them from each other in such a way that, most days, they didn’t feel as if they were lovers at all.

They were never quite so— platonic before. They weren’t used to abstaining from each other, never had been, and that change was something they never truly got past. Their way of expressing affection had always been physical - they grew up sharing a small bed in an orphanage, for God’s sake, of course they would be used to being physical with one another.

“We are living on borrowed time,” Kihyun continued as Hyunwoo hadn’t spoken in several seconds. “Enjoying it while it lasts— isn’t that worth the risk?”

He couldn’t argue Kihyun’s point - in his place, he would think the exact same way. But still— “What if Hoseok wakes up?”

“Then he can join us.”

Laughter escaped his lips before he could catch it. He raised his eyes to meet Kihyun’s again, giving his suggestion some thought before saying, “Won’t it be selfish of me to use you as an outlet for my stress?”

“That’s the point - I want you to be selfish. You need it. I need it.”

“So this is a mutual exchange of frustrations?” Hyunwoo asked in a jokingly manner, and Kihyun giggled.

“In a way. I need to let go, you need to regain control, and we miss each other. It sounds to me like an appropriate solution for all of those issues.”

It did make sense, he had to admit. It made sense and it was… enticing.

Hyunwoo licked his lips, shifted on top of Kihyun as he suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable, a bit constrained. “And you want me to— be rough?”

“I want you to be whatever you want to be.”

Well. That made it easier. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“A couple of days,” Kihyun replied. With a teasing grin, he added, “Although, I have been quite fixated on the memory of you in only your suspenders, looking like danger on legs in that fighting pit since that night.”

Hyunwoo smiled bashfully to himself and hid his face in the crook of Kihyun’s neck. “A-ah, I see.”

“Give it some thought, hm?” Kihyun requested in a soft voice, but Hyunwoo shook his head.

“I don’t need to,” he said. It was a bad idea. A  _ terrible _ idea, and yet— “I want to try.”

Kihyun blinked, likely surprised at how easy it was to convince him, before a warm smile crept onto his face. “Try, then.”

When they kissed, Hyunwoo didn’t think of everything that could go wrong, everything that was already wrong; when they kissed, Hyunwoo only felt an overwhelming feeling of  _ right _ . A certainty that things would get better. Maybe getting control back was the first step in that direction - then, they could work harder to get the rest of their lives back, too.

◦ ◦ ◦

Changkyun couldn’t see what was happening around him, like a veil of fog was covering his eyes. Whenever that happened, he knew - it was that dream again. Memory?

Knowing it was a dream didn’t help, though. He was aware yet helpless, unable to pry himself from the dream, forced to experience the final moments of a life he didn’t remember. He heard voices, their tone urgent as if the people speaking were in a hurry. One was a woman, he thought; the other was a man. They sounded— familiar. He attributed it to the fact that he knew them - maybe had been one of them - but it felt like he was missing something, something that kept slipping through his fingers any time he reached for it. 

The fear, though, the fear choked him, smothered him, and he wanted to cry - was already crying? His face felt wet, so he must be crying. But there was something else under that fear, hiding but still very present - hope. He clung to it, desperate to have something to turn to other than the fear.

The voices were louder and still he could not understand. A different language? Familiar and out of reach, just like everything else.

And he was in a hurry. Why was he in a hurry? Was someone coming? Someone who wished to do him harm?

His hands were shaking. He was holding something. No, giving someone something. Or being given something—

And suddenly there was a pressure on his throat, the cold edge of a blade. The fear in his chest rose in a crescendo, but so did the hope, so did the— love. There was love there too. He clung to it, held onto it as hard as he could and— 

Changkyun jumped awake, fingertips hurting from the death grip he had on the sheets, cold sweat running down his temples, heart beating fast as a hummingbird’s wings. He was shaking uncontrollably, teeth clattering, shivers running down his spine for a reason other than the cold in the room.

He closed his eyes tight, tried to focus on his breathing -  _ in, out, in, out _ \- and pushed down that terrible fear that stuck to him, leftovers from the nightmare. It was always like that. So much was happening in that dream and yet what stuck to him was the fear. The fear of dying. The fear of  _ knowing _ he was about to die, that everything was about to end. That he would be... gone.

It was almost a daily occurrence at that point - the dreams. He hadn’t been getting much rest, was often too jittery to relax enough to fall asleep and, when he managed to drift into slumber, he never stayed asleep for long. That paired with the anxiety caused by seeing glimpses of long black hair and a white gown in every corner of the mansion was beginning to wear on his nerves, making him lose his grip on reality.

Memories of a past-life haunting him would already be enough, but to have Hyungwon’s former lover haunting him as well was— it felt like overkill.

He was starting to lose it.

He shook his head, shook away the remnants of those memories he never asked for, and after a small effort to pry his own fingers from the sheets, he patted the space next to him to search of Hyungwon. He’d asked him to wake him up when he had those dreams, and while he would rather pretend to be fine, let Hyungwon have his much-needed rest… he didn’t want to be alone.

He  _ was _ alone, though - Hyungwon wasn’t in bed. Changkyun’s heart sunk, already jumping to the worst conclusions, but relaxed once he took a second to look around the room.

Hyungwon was standing in front of the window closest to their bed, bathed in moonlight in such a way that he seemed to glow - his pale hair, the white sleeping shirt he had on, the peaceful expression on his face, it all gave that scene a dreamlike appearance. Changkyun would have believed he was still dreaming had he not just woken up from a nightmare.

At the same time, however, he was gripped by a sense of dread; that situation felt wrong. The room itself felt wrong, like the air was pressing down on him, the walls closing in, the cold wind that came in through the window freezing his throat, chilling his lungs.

And Hyungwon was still just— standing there. Wearing only the thin shirt he’d slipped on earlier, directly in front of the open window getting hit by cold air. Was he not cold?

“Won?” Changkyun called, his voice careful, uncertain. “Is everything alright?”

Hyungwon didn’t react in any way to his name being called, continuing to stare out the window as if in a trance. When he finally spoke, Changkyun was left more confused than he’d been previously - and a thousand times more concerned.

“There are devils whispering in the wind,” Hyungwon said, voice clear despite the low volume. “Can you hear them calling for us?”

Changkyun frowned, equal parts worried and frightened by those words. “What?”

“Shh.” Hyungwon closed his eyes, head tilted up slightly as if he was straining his ears to hear something Changkyun couldn’t. “Listen.” 

The last thing Changkyun wanted to do was ‘listen’. He cautiously slipped out of bed, not giving a second thought to the fact he wasn’t wearing any clothes - cold or not, checking on Hyungwon took precedence over his comfort. Step by step, he approached his lover, eyes trained on his face in search of any signs Hyungwon— wasn’t Hyungwon. The memory of Hyungwon telling him of his concern regarding a spirit overstaying its welcome still haunted him, and that’s the first place his mind rushed to explain whatever was going on.

Hyungwon didn’t look any different. His eyes were still the same, not rolled back like Hyungwon had said would happen when he was channeling a spirit. They also appeared to be clear, alert, indicating he wasn’t sleepwalking either. He was very awake, very present, and that only served to leave Changkyun more unnerved.

“Baby, come on, let’s get back to bed,” he said softly, reaching out to take one of Hyungwon’s hands. He let out a soft gasp when he touched his skin. “Won, you’re freezing!”

Hyungwon blinked and looked down at their joined hands, a small hitch appearing between his brows. “Huh. I hadn’t realized.”

“How long have you been standing there?” Changkyun asked, taking both Hyungwon’s hands and rubbing them between his own to warm him up.

“Not long, I think,” Hyungwon said as he turned towards the window again. “The voices woke me up. I’ve been trying to listen.”

“Voices?”

Hyungwon nodded slowly in response, saying nothing else to clarify what voices he was speaking of. “They keep calling.”

“They? The devils?”

Again, Hyungwon’s only reply was a nod. Changkyun shuddered, not only because of the cold.

“Can you hear them?” Hyungwon asked.

“No, I cannot, and you should ignore them,” he said as firmly as his distress allowed. “Come back to bed, you need to warm up.”

“Listen,” Hyungwon murmured, closing his eyes again.

Changkyun made a noise of frustration in the back of his throat, deciding to indulge Hyungwon’s insanity - for there was no other word to describe what was happening - if only to get him to come back to bed faster. He took a deep breath to steel himself, afraid of what he would see, and turned towards the window to verify if there was anything outside. If Hyungwon was hearing voices, there was a chance they were coming from living, breathing people who had trespassed into their property; it was not outlandish since Changkyun had done so himself several times with considerable ease.

If there was someone out there, Changkyun would not be able to spot them even if he tried - all he could see was an ocean of silver mist, dancing in the wind like waves. He’d seen the fog sweep through the moor before, but that night the mists were denser than he’d ever known possible. The sky was clear of any clouds and yet the stars were nowhere to be found, only the full moon watching over them; once again, Changkyun could only describe that scene as dreamlike.

Dreamlike and wrong.

“Hyungwon, what—”

“Listen,” Hyungwon insisted.

Changkyun saw no other option but to comply, and, like Hyungwon, closed his eyes to focus on the sounds he should be listening to.

He heard nothing at first, only the wind blowing through the leaves of faraway trees. He felt silly, in fact, standing there in front of the window, completely nude, with his eyes closed trying to listen to phantom voices from the moor. Maybe he should start drawing a line, set a limit of just how far he was willing to go for Hyungwon.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, he heard it.

It could have been the wind and his mind had distorted the sound so it would seem like whispering in his ears, but he heard it.

It sounded awfully like someone calling his name.

He immediately opened his eyes and jerked back, tripping on his own feet and only not falling because Hyungwon was faster and held him by the waist in time.

“What is going on!?” Changkyun demanded, eyes wide in a manic way.

Hyungwon didn’t appear distressed, that pensive hitch still between his brows. In fact, he looked— pleased. “Good, you heard it.”

Changkyun, somehow, became even more confused. “‘Good’? How is it good?”

“I thought I was going mad for a moment,” he replied and let go of Changkyun so he could latch the window closed again. Changkyun could drop to the floor with relief, but somehow kept himself standing. “You are right, though. It’s best to ignore them.”

“Let’s go back to bed,” he tried asking again, tugging on Hyungwon’s sleeve. “It’s cold.”

“Sleeping in the nude was your choice, Kyun,” Hyungwon said in a deadpan tone that was clearly meant as a joke. Changkyun gave him an unimpressed look. Once the window was properly shut, Hyungwon turned to him and asked, “Are you alright? You’re pale.”

Changkyun’s immediate response was a one-shouldered shrug. “I had a nightmare.”

Hyungwon’s demeanor darkened, his body became tense. “About your past life?”

He confirmed with a nod of his head and Hyungwon let out a heavy sigh, his large hands coming up to hold his face lovingly. His hands were so cold. Changkyun still leaned into them.

“Was it bad this time?”

“Same old,” he mumbled. He didn’t like talking about it - speaking of his nightmares out loud always made them feel real as if they weren’t dreams at all, but actual events of his life. They were, in a way, but he was not supposed to remember them, right? Or was he? 

“I’m sorry for being too distracted to notice,” Hyunwon said after pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll pay more attention next time, wake you up before it gets too bad.”

“I’m alright, Won,” he lied. “I’m more concerned about you, standing in front of the window as if you were in a trance and talking about devils in the wind.”

Hyungwon had the decency to look ashamed. “Ah. I imagine it was an upsetting thing to see upon waking up from a nightmare.”

“To put it lightly.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Hyungwon said, pressing gentle kisses to Changkyun’s lips. “How can I make it up to you?”

Seeing it as an opportunity to shift the focus from any creepy topics entirely, Changkyun said in a suggestive tone, “You can start by getting rid of this shirt and coming back to bed.”

That was probably a bad habit of his, using sex as a distraction for things he didn’t want to deal with, but— well, it worked.

Hyungwon arched an eyebrow and grinned down at him, thoroughly amused. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Yes, yes, I’m a depraved fiend, my lust knows no bounds, I can never be satisfied, the pit of my desire is impossible to fill, blah blah blah, now get on with it.”

All Hyungwon did was chuckle at his outburst and shake his head, a fond look in his eyes, before complying to Changkyun’s request and letting him pull him by the hand back to bed. Changkyun took it upon himself to strip the shirt off of his lover; Hyungwon, he’d learned, didn’t particularly enjoy being naked, wasn’t comfortable with it as Changkyun was, something he couldn’t understand - Hyungwon was beautiful. In his place, Changkyun would be proud and eager to show off, but he would not question it. Hyungwon was his own person and it was not for Changkyun to say how he should or should not feel about his own appearance.

What he could do, however, was appreciate Hyungwon’s body for both of them.

It was not that kind of night, though. More often than not, Hyungwon would be more than happy to allow Changkyun to take the lead, set the pace, but sometimes Hyungwon would catch him by surprise and take the reins - it was  _ that  _ kind of night. He should have guessed it the moment he woke up to him nonchalantly talking about hearing voices as if that was the most normal thing in the world.

Hyungwon’s approach was much different than his own - where Changkyun was impatient, straight to the point, Hyungwon liked to take his sweet time. It drove Changkyun mad in the best possible way, no matter how he heavily suspected Hyungwon to be a bit of a sadist. Hyungwon knew how to play his body like a piano, nimble fingers pressing his keys with the perfect intensity - _ Pianissimo! Mezzo forte! Fortississimo!  _ \- rising and falling to bring him right to the edge and then pull him all the way back to the start.

He hadn’t been getting much sleep lately - Hyungwon was one of the reasons.

Not that he was complaining.

He’d been completely focused on Hyungwon for whoever knows how long, entire attention turned to his hands on him, his lips on his, but his focus snapped like an elastic pulled taut and past its limits back to the present when he heard a soft  _ thud _ just outside their door. His eyes flew open with the startle, his heartbeat quickening for a much different reason than it had been thus far, and he turned his head towards the door.

Hyungwon followed his gaze, his eyes lingering on the door for just a moment before he continued on with what he’d been doing without a second thought. “It’s alright, Kyun.”

“I heard—”

“I know, I heard it too.”

Changkyun tried to ignore the unease that gripped him, tried to keep himself focused on Hyungwon, but his eyes kept moving towards the door. What if Guhn was there? One of the servants? Rationally, he knew Hyungwon would be able to tell if trouble was afoot, yet he couldn’t shake that feeling.

When his eyes moved to the door for the thousandth time, Hyungwon seemed to have had enough - he placed a hand on his cheek, touch so soft it might as well not be there, and coaxed him to look up at him. Changkyun did so hesitantly, worried that something would happen if he wasn’t paying attention to the door. Hyungwon’s eyes looked dark, impossibly dark, a dark that could not be caused only by dilation of pupils. He had lovely eyes, Changkyun always thought so, and those shadowed eyes— a different hue, still as lovely. Not-quite-hazel now closer to dark brown.

Familiar.

Hyungwon only watched him for a moment in silence before kissing him. He didn’t think Hyungwon would say anything, firmly believed he would distract him in a more practical way.

He was wrong.

“When we make love,” Hyungwon whispered against his lips, “always assume he’s watching.”

Changkyun’s train of thought came to a screeching halt and jumped off the tracks entirely.

Hyungwon was not saying that with the intention of warning him to be careful - on the contrary. Changkyun could see, clear as day, that Hyungwon meant that he was allowed to act as possessive as he wanted, allowed to put on a show, proclaim his hold on Hyungwon to whoever may be peeping through the keyhole - in that case, per Hyungwon’s allusion, Guhn. 

Hyungwon was giving him permission to rub their relationship in Guhn’s face.

Well. He could do that.

He could absolutely do that.

◦ ◦ ◦

Jooheon had tossed and turned all night, unable to turn his thoughts off. He kept replaying the kiss over and over in his mind, still feeling the phantom touch of Minhyuk’s lips on his, and he simply did not know what to do about it. How to feel about it.

He’d given up sleep at some point, getting out of his bed to fix himself something to eat - snacks had always helped him think. Not this time, though. The simple sandwich felt like sand in his mouth, dry and tasteless, and no matter how much water he drank, the sensation lingered. He gave up the sandwich halfway through it.

He didn’t go back to bed. He dropped onto the couch and stared at the ceiling, stewing in the feeling that he should have done more. He should have said more. He should have asked Minhyuk to stay.

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? He wanted Minhyuk to stay, had the chance to tell him that  _ twice _ , and he declined both of those opportunities because he was too stubborn and insecure to take a chance.

As the first beams of sunlight streamed through the windows of his tiny apartment, Jooheon forced himself to let go. It was too late. The circus was probably leaving at that very moment - there was no time to make it all the way there and, even if there was, he wasn’t sure he should.

The way Minhyuk had run away after kissing him— it didn’t exactly paint the picture of love returned. Impulse and recklessness, maybe, perhaps even regret, but not… not what Jooheon needed to see. A stronger commitment on Minhyuk’s part, an indication that he truly wanted to be with him, that Jooheon meant more to him than— whatever Minhyuk saw him as. A distraction, perhaps, as it might be quite refreshing for him to find someone who wasn’t immediately inclined to sleep with him. Maybe Jooheon should have given in as soon as he met Minhyuk. If he had, maybe Minhyuk would have lost interest faster and Jooheon would have avoided developing anything more than friendship towards him.

The kiss didn’t change anything, in the end - it only served to make the ache in his chest worse.

Minhyuk was still leaving and Jooheon was still not enough. He hoped Minhyuk wouldn’t write. Hoped he would forget all about him the moment he left the city, and, quite frankly, it’s what he expected from Minhyuk: to be forgotten. He didn’t want to hope he would write, that he would think of him, that he would come back someday - hoping would only lead him down the road of disappointment. Minhyuk wouldn’t come back, he would not write, and he would not give a second thought to the temporary caretaker he met once upon a time. Jooheon would be hardly worth a footnote in Minhyuk’s story.

The best he could do was pick himself up and move on. Lying on the couch pining for someone who would never hold him as dearly wouldn’t do him any favors, neither would continuing to replay the memory of that kiss in his mind.

He pushed himself off the couch and shuffled to the bathroom; he would take a quick bath, then he would head out to hunt for his breakfast, and later send a message to Changkyun saying he would accept his invitation. No matter how much he dreaded the thought of stepping inside Hyungwon’s lair, he couldn’t allow his fear to push away his best friend.

And, fine, the temptation of chocolate cake and other delicacies to stuff his face with had gotten the better of him.

In the sorry state he was in, chocolate cake was not simply a want - it was a need.

His mind kept going back to the kiss, though. No matter how many times he swatted the thought away like a metaphorical fly, it kept coming back. He wanted to rush to the circus and see Minhyuk one last time, at least to say goodbye properly, to try and engrave his features to his memory. It was far too late, he knew - they had scheduled their departure at the break of dawn, and dawn had been a couple of hours prior by the time he stepped out of his bath.

He might have made it, had he made a decision sooner; he must have pushed it off subconsciously, finding an excuse or a task to accomplish before leaving until it was too late and a decision didn’t matter anymore, an act of self-preservation he only noticed when he stopped to think about it. He truly was a scaredy-cat.

Crying over spilled milk would do him no favors, and again he tried to convince himself to shift his focus to something that didn’t involve Minhyuk. As it turned out, there wasn’t much to think about - rent was already paid for the next two months thanks to the money Changkyun had been ‘gifted’ by Hyungwon the night they met, so worrying about money was not necessary at the moment; thinking about Changkyun would lead to thinking about Hyungwon, and he definitely didn’t want to think about scary things so early in the morning; he tried thinking about food then, what to get for breakfast, but his mind continuously dragged him back to memories of the times he shared a meal with Minhyuk at the circus during their breaks, the conversations they had, the sound of his laughter.

It was hopeless. Minhyuk would stay where he was, planted in his mind like a tree, and fighting it would only be a frustrating and pointless endeavor. Best to keep going with his life, get back to his old routine, and let time work its sorcery and rip out that tree by the roots. One day, hopefully not that far away, he would wake up and not think about Minhyuk.

He could hardly wait for that day to come.

For the moment, he could only take one step at a time, and the first step was breakfast. Something sweet. He was sad, and sadness called for something sweet.

As he was finishing getting dressed, rummaging through his drawers for his old scarf to fight the chilly morning wind outside, he heard a knock on the door. He frowned in confusion, trying to guess who could it be - his landlady, maybe? She might need help with something, it wasn’t that unusual for her to come seeking help to carry something heavy or fix something in her own apartment.

Or, Jooheon both hoped and feared, it was Changkyun coming home with his tail between his legs after realizing Hyungwon was no good. That was unlikely, but Jooheon was nothing but a dreamer.

He made his way to the front door, decided to search for his scarf after he dealt with whoever it was. He didn’t overthink who his early visitor could be, the idea that it could be Minhyuk didn’t even cross his mind, not until he opened the door and was met with the man himself, halfway turned around as if preparing to leave for thinking Jooheon wouldn’t answer. Minhyuk face was flushed, little droplets of sweat on his forehead, his breathing fast and heavy as if he’d ran all the way over there.

He froze, eyes going wide, jaw dropping. They stared at each other for several seconds, Jooheon out of shock, Minhyuk out of fear, if the expression on his face was anything to go by.

Jooheon blinked, breaking himself free from that brief trance, and very smartly said, “You didn’t leave.”

Minhyuk swallowed audibly and stammered out, “I didn’t leave.”

Another couple of seconds ticked by with them only staring at each other in complete silence before Jooheon found it himself to speak again. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“I was going to, I— maybe I should have, I don’t know,” Minhyuk said, a bit too fast. “I couldn’t go, I didn’t— I kept going over and over this in my head all night and I just couldn’t leave, it didn’t feel right and I— I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m sorry.”

Jooheon let out a soft breath through his lips and impulse took over without warning, making his arms take a life of their own and reach forward to pull Minhyuk into a tight hug. Minhyuk made a soft squeaking sound at being grabbed so suddenly, but after the second it took for him to understand what was happening he held Jooheon back just as tight, face pressed to his shoulder and fingers digging almost painfully into his back. If that was a dream, it felt much too real and Jooheon would rather wake up.

He didn’t wake up. Several seconds passed and Minhyuk was still there, giving him a bone-crushing hug, his worn suitcases forgotten on the floor by his feet. He was there. He didn’t leave. It wasn’t a dream.

When they finally parted and stepped back, the flush on Minhyuk’s face took a different meaning, less exertion and more bashfulness. “I— about last night.”

Jooheon’s face was probably not too many shades of red away from Minhyuk’s. “A-ah, that’s— that’s alright.”

“It’s not, I—” Minhyuk stopped himself before finishing the sentence, taking a deep breath before trying again. “I’m sorry about kissing you like that.”

“Oh,” Jooheon murmured. “You regret it?”

“No!” Minhyuk immediately responded, his voice loud in the tiny corridor. He clamped a hand over his mouth upon noticing his own volume and looked around, much like Jooheon did, half-expecting one of his neighbors to appear and curse them out for being loud so early in the morning. Nobody came, though. “What I meant was,” Minhyuk continued in a much lower tone, “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that, without your permission. I crossed the line, I feel, I just panicked because I thought it was my last chance and I— I’m sorry.”

Jooheon sighed, relieved. “Alright. It’s alright. I forgive you.”

Minhyuk smiled at him, shy in a way Jooheon had never seen before. “Thank you, Honey.” He shifted where he stood for a moment, looking around awkwardly. “I— I should get going.”

A wave of panic came crashing inside Jooheon again. “You’re still leaving, then?”

“No! No,” Minhyuk said, shaking his head frantically for emphasis. “This was a last minute decision, so I don’t really have a plan. I have to find an inn where I can stay and I— I’m not entirely sure where to start.”

“A-ah, that makes sense.”

Jooheon looked behind himself, at the interior of his apartment. A thousand thoughts clashed in his mind, loudly arguing over the many ways the idea that had popped into his head could go wrong, but— it made sense. And he wanted it.

“Why don’t you stay here?”

Minhyuk flinched at the suggestion, clearly not expecting it. “I— Are you sure?”

Jooheon shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets since he didn’t know what to do with them. “Yeah, I— I am in need of a new roommate, you are in need of a place to stay, and we already get along so… I don’t know, it makes sense.”

Minhyuk licked his bottom lip, something that appeared to be a nervous tick of some sort, and after a few seconds of pondering the idea, he smiled and said, “Yes, I would like to stay.”

Jooheon tried to hold back a smile of his own and failed spectacularly as he nodded and stepped aside for Minhyuk to enter the apartment, helping him carry his luggage inside and leaving it by the door. He would gladly help him unpack later. For now, his appetite had returned with a vengeance.

“I was about to head out to get breakfast,” he said. “Do you want to join me?”

Minhyuk, looking giddy and unsure next to him, smiled even wider at the invitation.

“Breakfast sounds wonderful.”

◦ ◦ ◦

Kihyun allowed himself to enjoy the calm of that morning, as it was a rare occurrence. Hoseok was feeling better, his chest still hurting but not as severely as it had been the night before, and after a hearty meal and warm tea to soothe his throat, his mood had also lifted a considerable amount.

And, of course, Hoseok took one glance at him when he entered the bedroom and from the look he gave him, he knew right away that he and Hyunwoo had quite the busy night. He only shot Hoseok a side smile, and neither of them made any further comments.

Not that the happenings of the previous night weren’t still in Kihyun’s mind - how could they not be? While still uncertain and careful about their new ‘arrangement’, Kihyun had enjoyed every second and Hyunwoo was of the same mind. Of course, perhaps that had been a reckless proposal, as it was absolutely an idea that could put his own health at risk; just because Hyunwoo was in the early stages of consumption, that did not mean he was not contagious. Kihyun knew so. He knew.

A little voice in the back of his mind that he constantly tried to quiet down said that he was doing it on purpose. Kissing Hoseok on the lips, being intimate with Hyunwoo, it was all a subconscious attempt of his to— go down the same road as them. To not be alone. To not let them be alone.

It was a ridiculous notion. Preposterous. Kihyun didn’t have a death wish, was not prone to self-sabotage, yet what scared him the most about that little voice was that— there was some truth in it.

Which is why he ignored it and rationalized it to himself the same way he’d rationalized to Hyunwoo the night before. It was about the lack of time. It was about missing them, it was about wanting them to go back to the way they used to be before the white plague descended upon their home. All he wanted was his lovers back, their lives back, their old relationship back, not that shattered dynamic of constant grief and dread they had unknowingly made the default.

He was done holding back from being affectionate with his lovers, who  _ needed _ affection now more than ever. He would not keep his distance from Hoseok when all he wanted to do was hold him through his pain, would not keep himself away from Hyunwoo when he needed him near.

And if he got sick, then— well. Then he would be sick. Simple as that.

It didn’t matter anymore. Push came to shove and his best-laid plans had crumbled like a sandcastle come tide. He was already losing all he had to lose - a life without Hoseok and Hyunwoo was not a life he wanted for himself.

So he would love them as completely as he could, enjoy their time together to the fullest, and whatever the Fates had in store for them, so be it.

And yes, the Fates— that was another thing he was enjoying that morning, finally giving in to curiosity and going out to procure a book on Greek mythology, only to return home, snuggle next to Hoseok in bed, and read. Work felt like wasted effort at that point - their wares were nearing their end anyway and they had gathered more than enough money already, so Kihyun allowed himself to take a break, slow down on their business. Once they talked about what to do with their savings and reached a decision, then he would see if he needed to keep working so hard.

For the moment, he basked in Hoseok’s company, their comfortable bed, and the very interesting reading. Indeed, even if he did not find the answers to his dilemmas, Hyungwon’s mention of ancient Greek legends certainly served to open the door to a whole new realm of fascination for Kihyun. From the mythos regarding the creation of the world, to the trials of Heracles, to the strange tale of the man who fell in love with the statue he sculpted, Kihyun read over half of the gigantic tome in only a couple of hours.

Like Hyungwon had said, Kihyun didn’t take too long to stumble upon a tale that involved an oracle and a prophecy - the king of Thebes is told by an oracle he would be killed by his own son who would then proceed to marry his wife, bringing chaos to the city. Trying to prevent the prophecy to pass, the king abandoned his child at a mountainside expecting it to die, but the baby was then adopted by a couple who happened to pass by. The child then grows up curious about his parentage and consults an oracle himself, only to hear much of the same: he would kill his father, marry his own mother, and bring misfortune to his city. Believing he had been born in the city he was raised in, he left for Thebes thinking that was how he would avoid the ill omen. On his way there, he is met with the king himself and his procession. He refuses to bow to the king and a fight breaks out, during which he ends up fulfilling part of the prophecy and killing the king, his father, without knowing his true origin. He proceeds to the city and there he meets and marries the queen, his mother, thus cursing the city with a plague of infertility that affected crops, livestock, and the very people.

That tale on its own would already be enough to prove Hyungwon’s point, but Kihyun had found yet another one - the king of Argos is told by an oracle that he will be killed by his grandson, and so, to avoid it, he orders his daughter to be imprisoned inside a tower so that she can never meet a man and become pregnant. However, the god Zeus comes to the woman in the form of a rain of gold and impregnates her, resulting in the birth of a son. Years later, the son participates in a competition and, during the discus throw, he accidentally strikes the king in the head, killing him and fulfilling the prophecy.

Run from it as they might, they all still met their fate in the end - that was exactly what Hyungwon had told him. And that posed the question: what if those characters had done things differently? If the king of Thebes had raised his son, tried to be a good father, then his son would have grown up knowing him and his mother, thus avoiding the premonition completely. And the king of Argos, should he not have trapped his daughter in a tower and left her vulnerable to the advances of a god, then she would likely have had a child that didn’t possess inhuman strength and would know to aim any heavy objects away from his grandfather’s head.

The more they struggled, the more they became tangled in the web. Fear itself had them running straight to what they so desperately tried to avoid.

Fear. Kihyun was afraid. Afraid of the future, afraid of not being able to save his lovers, afraid of taking Hyungwon’s deal and losing them, and not taking it and losing them anyway. His fear, unlike the characters in those stories, kept him frozen in place, unable to react, unable to decide which path to take. And maybe that was it - the prophecy there was that Hoseok had only a few months to live; Hyunwoo, a few years. His inability to make a decision was the equivalent of running straight towards it because being idle in that situation would only make the prophecy come true.

Or, who knows, maybe he was overthinking it, seeing parallels where there should be none, desperate to find guidance anywhere - even in ancient stories about gods and men. He saw them, though, laid out before him in the pages of that old book. The similarities were there.

Yet he still wasn’t sure what to do next.

“Why are you so interested in Greek mythology all of a sudden?” Hoseok asked, pulling Kihyun from his musings.

Kihyun looked up at Hoseok to give him a smile and said, “Someone mentioned something about it and it’s been on my mind ever since.”

“Huh. Anything good?”

“Oh, yes,” Kihyun said with a chuckle. “It’s very interesting. I suppose any culture’s mythology would be fascinating to learn, but Greek mythology, in particular, seems to me— quite colorful.”

“I believe you,” Hoseok said, snuggling against Kihyun's side and resting his head on his shoulder. The book he’d been reading was long forgotten next to him, and his eyes were trained on the open pages of Kihyun’s tome. “Read to me?”

“Of course, bunny,” he said and pressed a kiss to the top of Hoseok’s head. Before he could even find a tale to read to him, though, they heard the front door opening to herald Hyunwoo’s return from work. “I guess reading will have to wait.”

Hoseok shrugged before saying in the most bitter tone in history, “I’ll be here.”

Kihyun tutted like an overbearing mother. “Don’t be like that.” He slid off the bed after marking his book carefully. “I’ll just check on Woo, make some tea, and be right back, hm?”

“As I said, I’ll be here,” Hoseok said, slumping back on his pillows. Kihyun couldn’t even begin to imagine how incredibly bored he must be, now that he had to stay in bed for much longer than before for the lack of strength to stand. 

He smooched his cheek repeatedly until he heard Hoseok laugh and only then did he leave the bedroom, finding Hyunwoo shedding his coat and scarf in the living room. They shared a smile when their eyes met and Kihyun approached him for a kiss - Hyunwoo didn’t question it, didn’t hesitate. Just leaned down and kissed him, like there was no risk involved in that simple action.

“Welcome home,” Kihyun said. “Have you eaten already?”

“Yeah, I had lunch with some of the guys just now,” Hyunwoo replied, glancing over at the bedroom. “You and Hoseok?”

“We already ate, too. And Woo?” He paused before adding in a lower voice, “It’s a good day.”

Hyunwoo heaved a long, heavy sigh. “I suspected it would be. I’ve been trying to prepare for this all day, but—”

“I know,” Kihyun interrupted, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “It’s better to do it quick. Get it over with.”

“You’re right. I’ll wash up and be right there, then.”

“Go ahead, I’ll make us some tea.”

He watched as Hyunwoo moved to the bedroom to greet Hoseok before heading to the bathroom to freshen up. Only then did he leave the book on the living room table and made his way to the kitchen.

Chamomile. They would definitely need chamomile.

They both had known today would be the day, yet Kihyun was still unsure of what to say. How to say it. He understood why Hyunwoo hadn’t told them before - how do you tell someone you love, someone who loves you, that you are dying? And, in Hoseok’s case, that you are dying of the same contagious disease as he is?

There was no easy way to do it. No way to cushion the blow.

They would have to reassure Hoseok that he was not to blame - that would be the priority. Hoseok would spiral right into despair no matter how they delivered the news, so their goal was to mitigate his reaction. Kihyun had no idea how they would do that, but he would try as hard as he could and harder still.

By the time Hyunwoo left the bathroom, Kihyun was pouring their tea into three mismatched teacups, focused not to spill hot water everywhere for how his hands were shaking. Hyunwoo must have noticed, because he took one look at him and sighed.

“I’ll do the talking.”

Kihyun shook his head. “You don’t have to—”

“I can do it. You can interject if you want, but this is something I need to tell him myself.”

Kihyun met Hyunwoo’s eyes, saw the determination in them, and knew it would be useless to argue. He nodded and put the kettle down on the counter. “Alright.”

“I’ll tell him about the fights first. Build the subject from there,” Hyunwoo informed, and Kihyun was grateful to know the strategy before the conversation started. At least he wouldn’t be caught off guard.

Hyunwoo must have sensed Kihyun’s anxiety, for he wrapped one arm around him, a half-hug that was as tight as one given with two arms, and pressed a long kiss to his temple.

“It’s going to be fine,” Hyunwoo murmured next to his ear. Kihyun closed his eyes and nodded, and prayed that he was right.

It’s going to be fine. They were going to be fine.

Hyunwoo took two of the teacups and left the kitchen first, allowing Kihyun a second to gather himself, reel in the jitters, before he took his own teacup and followed him. Hyunwoo was already settled next to Hoseok on the bed, one arm around his shoulders, and Hoseok seemed quite content all snuggled up next to him, both sipping their tea and talking in quiet voices. The smile that crept onto Kihyun’s lips came easy and unhindered.

They were going to be fine.

As long as they stayed together, they would be fine.

He sat down on the bed next to Hoseok’s legs, since there wasn’t enough space for him to squeeze in next to them, and placed a hand on his knee. Hoseok looked from Hyunwoo to Kihyun and back to Hyunwoo. Observant as he was, Kihyun wasn’t surprised that he noticed something was going on right away.

“Is something wrong?” Hoseok asked, caution clear in his tone.

Kihyun looked to Hyunwoo for a sign on whether he should answer that question or not, and Hyunwoo, shifting uncomfortably where he sat, cleared his throat and said, “We just decided it’s about time to explain to you what has been going on.”

Hoseok perked up. “Really? I thought you’d just keep pushing it off until I forgot about it.”

“Of course not, bunny,” Kihyun said, patting his leg gently to reassure him. “It’s just been a hard few days for all of us, but we always planned on telling you.”

“Alright, go on before you change your mind,” Hoseok said, looking from one to the other expectantly.

Hyunwoo, as he’d stated in the kitchen, did the talking. Kihyun kept his eyes low, watching the muted yellow tea inside his cup as if it was incredibly interesting. He focused on the feeling of the teacup in his hand, on the high temperature, tried to use that as an anchor in order not to fall apart. Too soon to fall apart. They were in for a long conversation, it wouldn’t do to break before it even began.

“I know you noticed I’ve been hiding something for a while,” Hyunwoo started. “I was hiding something, you were right.”

“I know that, I just can’t figure out what it was.”

“I’m getting there, bunny.” Hyunwoo punctuated his sentence with a kiss to Hoseok’s forehead. From his peripheral vision, Kihyun could see that the action was not enough to ease Hoseok’s cautious expression.

Fact by fact, Hyunwoo began explaining what had happened from the very beginning - how he was worried about their finances, how terrible he felt about Kihyun having to work so hard and travel so much, how he knew that his job at the docks didn’t pay very well, that he had to do something to get money fast so they could get the house they’d been dreaming off as soon as possible so Hoseok could recover. Kihyun said nothing, didn’t interrupt him at any point, sipping his tea absently. His nerves were already frazzled and Hyunwoo hadn’t even gotten to the difficult parts yet.

Hoseok, too, didn’t interrupt. He only sat and listened, looking calm but wary as if expecting Hyunwoo to spring a sudden trap on him.

He wasn’t entirely wrong, in a way.

“It was only a few days after Kihyun returned home that I heard about this— tournament,” Hyunwoo said, and there it was, the first breach into one of the delicate revelations that had to be made.

Kihyun took a long gulp of tea, barely feeling it burn his tongue and throat. He would definitely feel it later, though. He didn’t care.

“What kind of tournament?” Hoseok asked, the caution in his voice more pointed.

Hyunwoo took a second to answer, likely to choose his words, swallow his anxiety. “It was a bare-knuckle boxing tournament.”

Kihyun chanced a look up when Hoseok made no sound at the revelation, finding him staring at Hyunwoo as if he’d grown a second head. He could almost see the gears turning in Hoseok’s brain to try to process that information.

When he finally spoke, his reaction was very similar to Kihyun’s own. “What were you thinking!? You could have gotten yourself killed, are you mad!?”

Hyunwoo only sighed, certainly expecting that outburst already. “No, I am not mad. What I was when I entered the tournament, was desperate.”

“Hyunwoo, why—”

“Bunny,” Kihyun called him gently, deciding to interject before things got out of hand, “I gave him this same speech when I found out. It’s already over and done with, you can save your breath.”

“Kihyun gave me his trademark earful,” Hyunwoo confirmed, shooting Kihyun a sideways smile. “He saw the injuries on my hands and that’s when we fought.”

“He refused to tell me the truth,” Kihyun added. “In fact, he lied to my face, so I thought giving him the cold shoulder for a while would work to have him come clean.”

“But then I asked you to get it over with,” Hoseok concluded. Kihyun simply nodded to confirm.

“The night he followed me— he saw me fight,” Hyunwoo said. “It was not a pretty sight, I’m sure.”

“It wasn’t,” Kihyun agreed, a grim expression on his face. He’d gone back to staring into his nearly-empty teacup. “We fought again and we said terrible things to each other, all of which I wish I could take back now.”

“Ki, we were angry,” Hyunwoo said, always the peacemaker, the trouble-solver. “And we already apologized and made peace.”

“I can still regret it. But I digress,” Kihyun said, and took a deep breath. “It’s over, though. Our fighting and the tournament.”

“I see,” Hoseok said, slowly. Turning to Hyunwoo, he asked, “Did you win, at least?”

Hyunwoo chuckled at the question, and even Kihyun found himself smiling a bit. “Yes, I won.”

“Good, if you had gone through all that danger just to lose the tournament I would be a lot more upset, but since you’ve won I suppose I can get past it.” Hoseok looked from Hyunwoo to Kihyun, as if trying to read the mood. Noticing that they were both still tense, he sighed and asked, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

Hyunwoo shifted where he sat again, giving Kihyun furtive glances as if looking for guidance, or support, or both. Kihyun had no guidance to give, was as much at a loss as Hyunwoo, but he could manage to be supportive; he did so in the form of reaching out to hold Hyunwoo’s hand. Hoseok tensed up next to them.

“What’s going on?”

Hyunwoo took a deep breath, holding Kihyun’s hand so tight his fingers went numb. “We have good news and bad news.”

Kihyun wished the mood was appropriate to roll his eyes at Hyunwoo’s choice of an opening line; he settled for a brief glance in his direction, not wanting to discourage him from finally telling Hoseok of his illness. They’d come this far already.

“The good news is,” Hyunwoo continued, trying to sound positive and falling flat, “with the money we had saved plus the prize I won at the tournament, we have enough to buy a house or afford treatment.”

Hoseok didn’t react to that information at all, continuing to stare warily at Hyunwoo. “And the bad news?”

Hyunwoo opened his mouth, only to close it again without making a sound. He tried again, and the same thing happened. Hoseok swallowed audibly and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths that were loud in the silence that had fallen over the room.

“You have it.”

Kihyun lowered his head, a pained whimper stuck in his throat. He could hear the shaky breath leaving Hyunwoo’s lips, could feel him squeeze his hand harder.

After a few seconds, Hyunwoo murmured a simple, “Yes.”

A broken sob escaped Hoseok’s lips, his head dropping forward as if he’d run out of strength to hold it up. Hyunwoo quietly took the half-empty teacup from Hoseok’s hands and left it aside on the nightstand along with his own, before wrapping him up in a hug that was probably not as comforting as it should be. By then, Hoseok was already crying freely, head tucked in the curve of Hyunwoo’s shoulder, and Kihyun only sat there, unable to do anything, say anything.

He just felt— empty. He thought he would cry along, or try to say something to ease Hoseok’s pain, but… nothing. There was nothing. He hardly felt as if he was even there, like that entire scene was a dream that he wasn’t truly a part of. Not real. Not him. Not them.

He had to react, though. He forced himself to reach out, rest a hand on Hoseok’s back, if only to let him know that he was there, that he would not go anywhere no matter what. The touch seemed to bring Hoseok back from the haze of despair he’d gotten lost into, for he raised his head, eyes red and face stained with tears, to look at Kihyun.

“Ki, are you—?”

Kihyun immediately shook his head, tried to conjure a smile to at least not seem as desolate as he truly felt. “No, I’m alright, bunny.”

“You’d tell me if you were sick too, right?”

“Of course. I’m not though, I promise.” 

Hoseok accepted the words easily with short little nods that looked a bit manic before he turned to Hyunwoo again to say, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hyunwoo said, pulling Hoseok back into his arms and pressing a long kiss to his forehead. “I don’t blame you and Ki doesn’t blame you, so please, don’t blame yourself.”

“But you caught it from me!” Hoseok cried. “I should have been more careful, I—”

“It’s not your fault,” Hyunwoo repeated, more firmly this time. “You can’t control it, baby. It just happened.”

Hoseok took a series of deep breaths, clearly trying to conjure up a modicum of control, and asked, “How long have you known?”

“I noticed it a couple of months before Kihyun came home.”

Hoseok stared at Hyunwoo with pure shock on his face for a few seconds. “You’ve been hiding it all this time?” He glanced at Kihyun, then locked his gaze on Hyunwoo again. “If Ki hadn’t found out, would you ever have told us?”

“I was always going to tell you,” Hyunwoo said immediately, not hesitating for even a second. “All I wanted was to make as much money as possible as fast as possible, because I knew that you and Ki would ask me to take it easy once you found out. And— because I know I won’t be able to work at all, eventually.”

Hoseok sniffled and rubbed an arm over his eyes, trying to wipe away his tears with his sleeve. A pointless action - the moment he lowered his arm, there were already new tears falling. “I had a suspicion for a while but I kept telling myself I was wrong. I didn’t want to believe that— God, it all makes so much sense now, how secretive you two have been, how upset Ki’s been looking lately.”

“Now you know,” Kihyun murmured. Hoseok took his hand, that small touch the push that had Kihyun almost tipping over the edge, but— he couldn’t break down. Things were bad enough, he didn’t want Hoseok to be even more upset. He could cry later, on his own. As per usual.

“Try looking at it this way,” Hyunwoo said, going for a lighter tone no matter how his voice was thick with sadness, “now you can kiss me without fear.”

Hoseok let out a mirthless chuckle through his nose and shook his head. His gaunt cheeks were shiny with tear tracks, old and new. “That doesn’t really make it any better, Woo.”

“It’s a bright side, at least. I don’t want you to see this as the end of the world, this is just another thing we’ll have to get through together.”

“I wish we didn’t have to go through this at all.”

Kihyun sighed and brought Hoseok’s hand to his lips so he could press a kiss to his knuckles. “Wishing never got anyone anywhere, bunny. All we can do is play the cards we’ve been handed the best way we can.” He then gave Hoseok’s hand a last squeeze and rose from the bed, moving to collect their forgotten teacups from the nightstand. “I’ll go make some more tea and give you two a moment.”

“Ki—”

Kihyun interrupted Hoseok before he could finish speaking. “I’m alright, bunny. I’ve known for days already, have talked about it with Hyunwoo, and now you should talk to him about it as well. I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t wait for either of his lovers to protest again, swiftly making his escape from the bedroom to the kitchen. There, he put the teacups down on the counter with extra care - he was shaking so hard he was afraid he would end up dropping and breaking them.

All things considered, it hadn’t been as bad as thought it would be. Hoseok’s reaction had been fairly tame, but then again, as Hoseok had said himself, he was already suspecting it; a confirmation was not as impactful as a surprise revelation could be. Kihyun was at least thankful for that small mercy, for all that it didn’t make their situation any better.

All interested parties were now aware of the situation, though. Now they could rely on each other for comfort, could talk about it freely, could decide together on the best course of action, and that— that might help.

As he tried to focus on preparing them fresh tea, taking his sweet time, Kihyun also forced down a new and disturbing feeling that had taken root, a feeling that was slowly beginning to sprout bright poisonous flowers and thorn-filled vines around his heart: he was now the odd one out.

◦ ◦ ◦

Changkyun considered his first séance as Hyungwon’s special effects assistant a smashing success. With Changkyun’s talents for infiltration and Hyungwon’s psychic abilities, getting him inside the house where the séance took place was easy; keeping Changkyun from being discovered, even easier.

Hyungwon had helped him navigate the layout of the house by telling him exactly who lived there - the family that had requested the séance this time had two children, and Hyungwon marked on Changkyun’s crudely drawn map the places he should avoid not to be detected by either the children or the nursery maid.

Hyungwon also pointed out the rooms that would remain empty throughout the night, one of them being a guest bedroom right beside the parlor where the séance would take place - that’s where Changkyun set up his little work station, laying out the few items he had brought along to make noise. There was not much, as they hadn’t had the time to come up with more elaborate props; he had a couple of apples of different sizes, two sheets of sandpaper, and his own feet to make the footstep sounds. For the first time, it was enough.

The walls of the house were thin enough that he could hear Hyungwon well; Hyungwon had chosen the seat closest to the wall between parlor and bedroom, something they had also planned beforehand, to guarantee that Changkyun would be able to listen in for his cues. They had discussed the cues extensively as well - allow the silence to stretch for a while before making a faint sound, not react immediately when Hyungwon asked if there was a spirit present. Prolong the suspense, keep the audience on the edge of their seats.

And then make a loud noise. Dropping the largest, heaviest apple on the floor, or scraping the sheets of sandpaper together in one hard, fast motion, or even jumping once, as high as he could, to make the loudest noise possible upon landing.

Easy work. Changkyun had lost count of how many times he had pranked Jooheon in similar ways - this was just like pranking an entire room of Jooheons.

Once Hyungwon had successfully channeled a spirit, Changkyun was to wait until it was gone before making noise again, to not distract the patrons from whatever the spirit had to say. They had decided on a keyphrase for Hyungwon to use to signal that Changkyun was allowed to continue his task of noise-making, something simple and in tune with the séance that would not be out of place or strange for him to say -  _ the spirit has moved on. _

To inform Changkyun he could - or should - make his way out of the house and back to the carriage, Hyungwon would say something akin to ‘I sense no more spirits in this place’. Changkyun would then quickly pack up his items and slip away through the nearest window, and return to the carriage to wait for Hyungwon.

Hyungwon never stayed at the location after the séances; he didn’t like crowds and small talk, didn’t like the scrutiny of others, and, most of all, didn’t like the noise of a room full of people. He would excuse himself as soon as it was polite to do so, and come join Changkyun at the carriage to wait for Guhn. Guhn, unlike the both of them, stayed until the evening was over, mingling to ensure future patronage.

It worked perfectly well for them - they could enjoy each other’s company in the safe confines of their carriage and rest for a while before having to deal with Guhn’s presence for the hour-long ride back to the mansion.

The smile Hyungwon offered him when he entered the carriage already told Changkyun that he was satisfied with his performance during the séance, but Hyungwon confirmed that fact by telling him, loud and clear, that he had done wonderfully. Changkyun’s pride grew at least five times its original size at the compliments. It filled him with the drive to do even better in the future, come up with new ideas and tricks, to continue making Hyungwon happy.

He didn’t want him to regret offering him that job. He wanted to prove Hyungwon wasn’t wrong in his assumption that Changkyun was capable of doing what was required of him. That he was able to help.

While it was wonderful to have Hyungwon support him financially, Changkyun didn’t like feeling as if he was just dead weight Hyungwon had to drag around. He wanted to make himself useful, even if by doing something as simple as dropping apples on the floor.

Happy as they were, they had to postpone their celebration until after they arrived home; Guhn was in a sour mood that evening and, while he didn’t shout or try to pick a fight with Hyungwon, there was something bothering him. It was clear from the way he was glaring daggers at Hyungwon the whole ride back to the mansion, as if— waiting for Hyungwon to tell him something. If Hyungwon knew what Guhn’s problem was - which, in retrospect, he probably did - he didn’t say anything. He completely ignored Guhn and his dour attitude, as did Changkyun. He was too pleased with himself to allow his mood to be dragged down by Guhn.

Once at the mansion, free of Guhn who promptly retired to his chambers, they went straight to the kitchen where Mrs. Kim and Kyla were waiting with a celebratory meal, wine for Changkyun, and iced tea for Hyungwon. The two women were the only people aware of their ‘arrangement’, as Changkyun felt the need to have their approval before he began taking apples away from storage, and Hyungwon trusted them enough to let them in on the secret, and thus, that commemoration had been an idea the women had all on their own.

Their celebration went on past midnight, all parties absorbed in the good conversation and light atmosphere, hearing Mrs. Kim speak to them of her exploits during her youth and Kyla gossip about the other servants, Changkyun reciting tales of his own, and even Hyungwon sharing anecdotes about people he’d met during the tour he’d been in and some patrons that made an impression.

By the time they parted, Changkyun didn’t feel tired at all - he was buzzing with energy, head light with the few glasses of wine he’d consumed, and Hyungwon appeared to be as wide awake as he was. Back in their room, door locked, lights off, moonlight streaming in through the windows, they had their own private celebration - all hushed voices and soft giggles.

The sky was changing hues when they finally settled down to get some actual rest, Changkyun lazily drawing patterns on the smooth skin of Hyungwon’s stomach with his fingertips, and Hyungwon dragging his nails up and down his back. Changkyun felt content in a languid way, his mind quiet, body enveloped in warmth and tingling pleasantly, and perhaps it was that level of relaxation that caused Changkyun’s mouth to speak his thoughts out loud.

“We should get rid of Guhn and go into the séance business by ourselves.”

Unplanned as the words had been, they were still the truth - they didn’t  _ need _ Guhn. Guhn was only good for investing money, and they didn’t really need the investments. Séances were profitable all on their own, more than enough to support them and allow them a comfortable life, and Hyungwon already had knowledge about finances to figure out how to invest the money himself if they wished for more later.

Guhn was, for all intents and purposes, useless. His presence was bothersome at best, and both of them detested the man - why not kick him to the curb?

Hyungwon hummed softly, pondering the suggestion. After a moment of silence, he said, “I have a contract, Kyun.”

Changkyun groaned at the mention of the damn contract. “How long does the contract last?”

“Several years.”

“How many?”

“More than you’d like to know.”

“We don’t need him, Won,” Changkyun insisted, tipping his head up to meet Hyungwon’s eyes. “He doesn’t help with the séances at all and he treats you terribly, we don’t have to suffer him.”

Hyungwon gave him a tired smile and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “We will be free of him someday, baby. I’m working on a way to get out of the contract; for the time being, though, I’m afraid we’re stuck with him.”

“We could run away,” Changkyun pressed on. “We can go across the sea, start over someplace he’d never find us.”

Hyungwon chuckled through his nose, amused by his very serious idea. “While the thought is appealing and I have an acquaintance who owns a ship, my advice is that you exercise some patience. I will find a way to get out of it, and we won’t have to go on the run.”

Changkyun huffed, not happy with that answer, but didn’t argue - it would be useless to do so, he knew. Hyungwon held him tighter upon noticing his frustration.

“Be patient,” he whispered. “It won’t take long.”

Not entirely satisfied with the outcome of that conversation but trusting Hyungwon’s judgment and ability to find his way out of the contract, Changkyun snuggled closer to him and closed his eyes, allowing sleep to come claim him as thoughts of freedom and sunny shores swirled around his mind. ‘Be patient,’ Hyungwon said. Changkyun could do that.

But only for so long.

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this is the story of how kihyun and hyunwoo invented bdsm (<s>lol jk bdsm has been around since the dawn of time and victorians were some kinky mfs and were wizened up to it already</s>)
> 
> don't forget to leave kudos if you haven't to help me out in the confidence department, and i hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> as always, thanks for reading!♡


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for some violence, mentioned arson, mentioned child death, and guhn being a prick
> 
> time to thicken this plot, folks
> 
> enjoy!♡

◦

After a little over a week exchanging messages and telegrams with Changkyun to set up his visit to the mansion, the day had finally come; Jooheon stood awkwardly just inside the main doors, looking around to the high ceilings, to the marble floors, to the grand staircase before him, feeling awed and intimidated and as out of place as he would ever feel. Changkyun was nearly buzzing with excitement next to him, expecting a reaction.

When it didn’t come naturally, Changkyun prodded with a, “What do you think? Pretty nice, huh?”

Jooheon opened and closed his mouth several times before settling on saying, “It’s… big.”

Changkyun snorted. “Yeah, it really is.”

“Are you sure it’s alright for me to be here?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Of course it is, I wouldn’t have invited you if it wasn’t,” Changkyun promised.

“What of Mr. Guhn?”

“He’s not here, he went out early. I think he said something about the bank and his accountants, so that should take him a good while to deal with,” he said, then hooked one arm around Jooheon’s shoulders and began guiding him to their left, through an open archway. “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

Jooheon allowed Changkyun to lead him wherever he wanted to go, despite his secret wish he would just take him to the kitchen where the fabled chocolate cake was. Each room Changkyun took him to was fancier and more intimidating than the last, and more and more the reality of Changkyun’s new situation dawned on him -  _ this _ was his best friend’s life now. Living in a mansion, surrounded by luxury, being fed only expensive food and wearing only expensive clothes. Changkyun had the world in the palm of his hand, it seemed.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. On one side, he was happy for Changkyun - how could he not be? He was his best friend, of course he was happy to know he was being taken good care of, that he wanted for nothing, that he had access to everything he could possibly need. And he knew Changkyun - he knew that ever since he was a little boy, he’d dreamed of grandeur. He’d always wanted to live swimming in riches, and now, being inside the mansion, he was seeing that dream of Changkyun’s become a reality. So, yes, of course, he was happy for him.

On the other side, however, he was concerned. Changkyun was changing, a bit more noticeably each time he saw him. That very day, in fact, when Changkyun had arrived to pick him up in his fancy carriage, Jooheon’s first comment had been about the circles under his eyes, darker than they should be.

“You know how it goes - days are busy, nights are even busier,” Changkyun had said with a grin and a wink. It didn’t help to ease his mind.

And it wasn’t just an outward change. Yes, his appearance had changed, he looked healthier but more tired, but that could be explained away easily: he and Hyungwon were in their honeymoon phase and unable to unlatch themselves from each other for two seconds to actually get some rest. He was now eating several meals a day, so of course he’d gained some weight to go with his new situation. Healthy but tired was not an alarming change.

The problem was— Changkyun was acting strange, too. It was a subtle thing, something Jooheon only noticed because he’d been around Changkyun for several years, had shared a living space with him, half a lifetime where they were attached by the hip.

The best way Jooheon could put it was, Changkyun was losing touch with reality. And alright,  _ maybe _ that was a result of him living with a scary mind-reading medium - that creepiness could have rubbed off on him, since… well. They were certainly rubbing a lot of things on each other. The creepy might have stuck.

Whatever the reasons, Changkyun was acting— skittish. Constantly looking over his shoulder, on guard, flinching at the littlest noise. It was like he was expecting something to jump out of the shadows to get him. Being inside an old mansion that was rumored to be haunted, seeing his friend acting like that did nothing to reassure Jooheon that the place was safe. If his friend was afraid of something - Changkyun, who always made fun of him for being a scaredy-cat - then there was probably something going on to warrant that. Changkyun was not one to be afraid like that, so— what was truly going on?

“Hey, Kyun?” he called as they were leaving the dining room after Changkyun had walked him through it, moving to a rotunda and its spiral stairs from where they would reach the second floor. “Are you alright?”

Changkyun glanced at him for barely a second and shrugged. “I’m fine. Just working a lot.”

“I mean— you look a bit on edge.”

“Haven’t been sleeping much,” he said, and Jooheon could tell there was more to it than simply staying up late fooling around with Hyungwon.

He wanted to ask him more about it, prod him until he revealed the full truth, but something in Changkyun’s demeanor told him that he would get nothing out of him. Changkyun had always been a private person, and getting him to share his thoughts with him always involved a considerable amount of effort; he didn’t think they would have enough time that day for him to crack open the thick shell of Changkyun’s mind.

If Changkyun wanted to keep a secret, nothing in the world could make him reveal it.

He had to wonder if Hyungwon was aware of what was going on - he probably was. Hyungwon seemed to know everything about everyone, so certainly he knew what was bothering Changkyun so. The real question was, was he doing anything to help him?

Or was Hyungwon the very cause?

And where was he? They had been through the entire ground floor of the mansion and Hyungwon wasn’t anywhere; Changkyun said he wouldn’t see much of Hyungwon during his time there, but Jooheon was expecting that he would at least greet him upon his arrival, as it is the polite thing to do when a guest enters your home.

Maybe he wasn’t at the mansion that day. Guhn wasn’t, after all - they could have both gone to town on business. But no, Changkyun would have mentioned something. Hyungwon was definitely there somewhere. Lurking. Scheming. Being creepy.

The answer came much sooner than he expected - or even wanted - and it was surprising enough that it left him feeling slightly wrong-footed.

He spotted his pale hair first when they entered yet another reading room, and immediately he tensed up. His defensiveness felt unwarranted, however, for Hyungwon was— not looking threatening at all. He was reclining on a chaise, one knee drawn up to help support the book he was reading, which appeared too heavy to hold up with only his hands for extended periods of time. His clothes, despite obviously being of fine make, were simple and loose and could easily be something Jooheon himself would wear - if he was into lace undershirts, that is. Overall, Hyungwon looked… harmless.

It was so incredibly strange.

Hyungwon noticed their arrival right away, raising his eyes from his book to look at them instead. His lips curved up in a polite smile when his gaze fell on Jooheon.

“Ah, Jooheon,” he said. “Welcome.”

Hyungwon began to move with the obvious purpose to stand, and Changkyun hurried to say, “Don’t get up, Won.”

Hyungwon stopped himself right away and arched an eyebrow. “I don’t want to be rude to—”

“Just stay put,” Changkyun insisted. “I don’t want your headache to get any worse.”

Oh. Right. He remembered hearing something about Hyungwon suffering from chronic migraines. That explained a lot and it was also not as frightening as he thought it would be. Hyungwon wasn’t lurking, or scheming, or being creepy - he was just resting to recover from a headache.

That almost felt— normal.

“Yeah, it’s alright,” Jooheon said. In fact, he would rather not get too close to Hyungwon. Who knew, it could all be a ruse. “Uh— thank you for having me.”

Hyungwon blinked as he reclined back on the chaise, falling back into his previous position, and his smile widened to something that actually felt genuine, no malice or forced politeness. So strange. “No need to thank me. You are always welcome here.”

So very strange.

Changkyun looked from Jooheon to Hyungwon and back again to Jooheon. “Can you give me a second?”

Jooheon nodded briefly in response and Changkyun stepped away from where they had been standing by the entrance to approach Hyungwon, leaning over him on the chaise. Jooheon felt very aware that this was a moment he should not be witness to.

“Are you feeling better?” Changkyun asked in a low voice, one of his hands coming up to brush Hyungwon’s hair.

Hyungwon’s entire demeanor softened. “I’m fine, Kyun.”

Jooheon couldn’t help but notice that Changkyun completely relaxed from where he’d been tense just moments before, as if being around Hyungwon put him at ease. Well - maybe he could cross Hyungwon off his list of suspects for whatever Changkyun was afraid of.

It was, in fact, the very first time he’d seen them together like that, as a couple. There was an underlying tenderness to their dynamics, hidden just behind the protectiveness they had towards each other, an obvious affection that just could not be a fabrication. Whatever had brought them together, be it a spell or anything else, Jooheon could see that their feelings were real. They were truly in love, if the way they looked at one another was anything to go by.

The feeling that he was intruding became more pointed. Jooheon shifted awkwardly where he stood, trying to focus his gaze anywhere else - there were a lot of shelves around. Lots of books. Not interesting, but he could pretend it was.

“I can ask Kyla to bring you more tea,” he heard Changkyun offer.

“I’m  _ fine _ . Go spend time with your friend, you didn’t bring him over so he can watch you dote on me.”

Changkyun sighed, and it sounded like acceptance. “Call me if you need me, alright?”

He heard Hyungwon laugh - had he ever heard him laugh before? If he did, this was a different laugh. A real laugh. “I will, now  _ go _ .” Jooheon noticed movement and looked back at the happy couple just as Hyungwon raised his head again to look at him. Still smiling in that way that made Jooheon feel like he’d been transported to a different dimension, Hyungwon said, “I hope you enjoy your visit, Jooheon.”

“A-ah, yes, it’s been lovely so far,” he awkwardly stammered in response. He was certain he didn’t sound very smart, but it’s not like he could help it.

Hyungwon nodded once, looking pleased, and nonchalantly asked, “How is Minhyuk?”

Jooheon pursed his lips, forced himself not to react further. It was a ruse. It was all a trap, and it had just been sprung onto him with deadly precision.

He hadn’t told Changkyun yet. He didn’t mention Minhyuk was living with him at the apartment. He was going to, was planning to break the news once the tour was over, but— it might have been naive of him to think Hyungwon wouldn’t ruin his plans, deliberately or otherwise.

Changkyun turned to him with an eyebrow raised. Jooheon made sure to pretend he didn’t see it.

“He is doing fine, thank you.”

“I thought he left with the circus,” Changkyun commented, and it was very difficult to ignore the intense staring being thrown his way.

Jooheon cleared his throat. “Uh… about that.”

Changkyun looked down at Hyungwon again, and Hyungwon gave him a placid smile; Jooheon didn’t know Hyungwon very well, couldn’t decipher his thoughts and his mood by just looking at him, but that expression screamed ‘I told you so’. 

So the two of them talked about him. And about Minhyuk. And Hyungwon obviously had made some predictions about them, which were correct judging from his reaction.

Alright. That was alright. Nothing wrong with that. Absolutely nothing strange or unsettling about it.

Changkyun turned back to Jooheon. “He didn’t leave?”

“No…” Jooheon responded, now treading carefully. He regretted not telling him sooner, because now it just sounded like he’d been hiding it on purpose, which was not the case - it just felt like something he should talk to Changkyun about in person, instead of telling him through a telegram. “He’s been staying at the apartment with me.”

Changkyun’s expression went from curious to surprised in a blink. “Oh. So you two…?”

“No!” Jooheon immediately said, already feeling heat rushing to his cheeks.

They were most definitely  _ not. _ They hadn’t mentioned anything about their feelings since Minhyuk moved in, which was constantly a big elephant in the room - oh, how he missed Barya - but not something either of them felt ready to discuss. Yes, it was there, obvious and ever-present, but they had come to a silent agreement that they should take their time, figure out their new situation, their very feelings, before moving forward.

They were being careful. If Jooheon hadn’t mentioned anything to Changkyun yet, it was because he didn’t want to make a fuss about it - Changkyun would tease him, ask invasive questions, make little comments, and Jooheon would rather delay that as much as possible.

Minhyuk was his friend and now his roommate. That’s all.

Hyungwon, who had - thankfully - been pretending not to hear their conversation, said, “I thought you would bring him along today.”

Jooheon was surprised by the comment and answered without thinking. “Changkyun said he wasn’t invited.”

Changkyun gasped with the outrage of being thrown to the wolves so callously, and Jooheon only stared at him as if daring him to refute his words. It was the truth, after all.

Hyungwon chuckled, looking amused at their exchange. “Changkyun is only being overbearing.” Changkyun gasped again, this time at Hyungwon. He was ignored. “Bring him over next time, I have a few items that he will certainly find fascinating.”

Again, he was surprised - he was under the impression Minhyuk and Hyungwon loathed each other, but there was Hyungwon, amicably inviting Minhyuk into his home for the sake of sharing with him something Minhyuk would enjoy. Unless, of course, it was another ruse and what Hyungwon had to show Minhyuk was a nest of angry wasps.

“Alright, I will,” Jooheon replied.

“I guess we’ll be on our way then,” Changkyun said as he turned to Hyungwon. “Sure you don’t need anything?”

“I’m sure, Kyun,” Hyungwon said, and there it was again, that tenderness. “Don’t worry about me, go spend time with Jooheon.”

“Very well,” Changkyun agreed and leaned down to give Hyungwon a kiss. Jooheon looked away - he certainly didn’t want to see  _ that _ . “Call me if you need me.”

“Mhm, I will,” Hyungwon said and turned to Jooheon. “It was good to see you, Jooheon.”

“Y-yeah, you too,” Jooheon said. It was only half a lie, now; maybe Changkyun was right and Hyungwon wasn’t the evil he thought he was. No matter how awkward, that exchange had been— nice. Hyungwon had been nice. He didn’t think it was possible for him to be anything but a conceited prick, but he was perfectly courteous and welcoming, and seeing how loving he was towards Changkyun changed Jooheon’s opinion of him for the better.

He really loved Changkyun, they really cared about each other, and that was all Jooheon needed to know. Changkyun seemed to be in good hands - maybe he was worrying for nothing and his instincts were a bit off-kilter due to the fact that Hyungwon was scary.

So it wasn’t Hyungwon the cause of Changkyun’s distress; the next suspect would be Mr. Guhn. Or even the house - Jooheon didn’t like the house, didn’t like the atmosphere, the eerie feeling it exuded. He’d felt watched more than once ever since his arrival, and that— that would explain Changkyun’s behavior.

He would be on edge too if he had to live here.

They finally departed from the reading room, leaving Hyungwon to his book and rest, and Jooheon followed Changkyun back to the rotunda and out into a long hallway. It was lined with tall windows on one side, all the curtains open to let in the sunshine - it gave the place a soothing, welcoming impression.

He imagined that corridor looked very different at night.

“Here, let me show you my room,” Changkyun said, and immediately Jooheon felt as if that was a bad idea - Changkyun’s room was technically Hyungwon’s room. He really,  _ really _ didn’t want to go into Hyungwon’s room.

“Uh— are you sure that’s alright?”

“Yes, Hyungwon gave me permission to take you anywhere in the mansion already, don’t worry.”

“Won’t I be intruding?”

Changkyun looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face. “Intruding on what? It’s just a room.”

Jooheon pouted, his cheeks getting warm. “A room you two share, shouldn’t it be private?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to take you to  _ our _ room, I meant  _ my _ room, the one I use as an office.”

“...Oh.”

“We still have to walk through mine and Won’s room, though.”

Well. His relief was very short-lived.

Changkyun unlocked the door with the efficiency of someone well-practiced and pushed it open to allow Jooheon entrance, making a show of bowing and motioning him inside. Jooheon rolled his eyes and, hesitantly, very hesitantly, stepped into the room.

The first thing he noticed was the pair of outfits laid out on the bed, two handsome formal suits - one was black and white, simple but elegant, while the other was of a deep shade of blue with silver embroidery, and which suit belonged to who was quite obvious.

Changkyun had been busy closing and locking the door behind them - how very odd - and noticed Jooheon looking at the clothes when he turned around.

“We have a party to attend later this evening,” he said in the way of an explanation. “It’s the birthday of one of Guhn’s associates or something, he’s dragging Hyungwon along and I’m not about to let him go alone, so—” He motioned at the clothes as if saying they had no choice but to get dressed up and go to a fancy party as if that was some sort of torture.

To Jooheon, though, it was. He could imagine that it was torture for Changkyun, too.

“Hyungwon doesn’t like parties?”

Changkyun shook his head in reply as he walked right past the bed towards the open door on the other side of the room. Jooheon quietly followed. “No. He’s very private and he hates being stared at, so a party is likely the last place he wants to be.”

“I see. I was under the impression he enjoyed the attention.”

“Only from the right people,” Changkyun said with a smug sideways grin. Jooheon rolled his eyes. “His hair, his height, the fact that he’s a medium, it all catches people’s eyes and he hates it. Says it makes him feel like some sort of novelty attraction.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

“Few people do. He’s quite good at pretending to be above it all,” Changkyun said as they crossed the pristine white-tiled bathroom. “He’s usually more like the way you just saw - laid back, quiet, likes spending time on his own reading a book.”

“I suppose I was wrong about him, then,” Jooheon said, and it wasn’t too hard to admit it out loud - he was never one to deny he’d been wrong about something. “He didn’t make the best first impression. Or second impression. Or third.”

Changkyun snorted. “I can understand that. But I mean it - he’s a really good person once you get to know him.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

They entered the room and Jooheon was— impressed was not the right word, but it came close. Everything in there was brand new and quality, and Jooheon could tell it was according to Changkyun’s taste. It was clean, which was probably a feat performed by the servants - Changkyun was not usually so neat - and the bed looked untouched. It made sense, considering he didn’t actually sleep there. The desk, though, that was littered with papers and notebooks, notes, pens, a few discarded paper balls here and there, and  _ that _ was more like Changkyun. The one thing that was sitting neatly there, in the midst of all that chaos, was a small framed picture of Changkyun and Hyungwon, placed at an angle that faced whoever decided to sit down at the desk.

Jooheon fought the urge to roll his eyes and won - but barely.

“Welcome to my lair,” Changkyun announced, his arms wide open to encompass the room and an ear-to-ear smile on his face. “Just please don’t mess up my desk.”

Jooheon arched an eyebrow. “More than it already is, you mean?”

“It’s an organized mess, I have a system.”

“Right.” Jooheon sighed and took a few more steps inside, looking around curiously. “What is it that you even do here?”

“You know, this and that.” Changkyun dropped on the bed and leaned back, supporting himself with his hands. “I help Won with a couple of things to make his séances a bit easier.”

Jooheon turned to Changkyun with an eyebrow raised. “So you help him fake it?”

Changkyun gave him a mysterious smile. “There is nothing fake about what he can do. I’ve seen enough by now to know that much.”

Coming from Changkyun, a known skeptic, those words felt ominous. “That is not very encouraging.”

“Come on,” Changkyun said, patting the space next to him on the bed. It didn’t escape Jooheon’s notice that he’d brushed over the subject entirely. “Tell me all about your new roommate.”

Oh. So that’s why Changkyun had brought him all the way to his secluded room.

And he thought Hyungwon was the one setting traps.

Jooheon took a deep breath and obliged, going to sit down on the bed next to Changkyun. It’s not like he had many choices - the exit was locked. There was nowhere to run.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Jooheon lied through his teeth. There was a lot to tell, a lot of feelings involved that he’d been trying to suppress, but again, he didn’t want Changkyun to make a fuss about it. Downplaying it felt like the safer option - not that Changkyun would believe a word he said. “He made a last-minute decision not to go with the circus and needed a place to stay.”

“And you let him move in out of the kindness of your heart alone?”

“Yes…? Or— well, he’s my friend, so…”

“Jooheon.”

“Nothing happened!” he insisted. After a brief pause during which Changkyun only stared at him as if he knew there was more to tell, Jooheon added, “Not since he moved in, at least.”

“Oh?” Changkyun’s entire being perked up with interest. “So something happened before he did?”

Jooheon knew he would have to get to this eventually, but he’d been hoping it wouldn’t have to be so soon. Still, he was there already, might as well get it over with. “We… we kissed.”

Changkyun made a strange high-pitched sound that had Jooheon flinching. “You what!?”

“It was just a kiss! A goodbye kiss, when he thought he was leaving.”

“A kiss is a kiss, Jooheon!” Changkyun said, sitting upright on the bed and shaking his shoulder like an annoying child. “How did you not tell me this sooner!?”

Jooheon batted his hand away. “It wasn’t important.”

“It wasn’t—? Jooheon…” Changkyun paused to take a deep breath. Jooheon had a distinct impression that his friend was trying to control the urge to punch him. “I know you like to pretend it’s not that big of a deal, but you’ve been pining over him for a while now.”

Jooheon turned his face away, Changkyun’s knowing stare making him feel oddly exposed. “So?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He frowned and turned back to Changkyun. “Isn’t it a bit late to tell me that?”

“I know I’ve been a shitty friend lately, I’m the first one to admit it,” Changkyun said, hands raised in a sign of surrender. “I still worry about you, though. The last time you talked to me about Minhyuk, you were telling me how it wouldn’t have worked out and that you thought you’re not his type or whatever other nonsense you convinced yourself of, and now he’s living with you. It’s a bit of a gamble when you don’t even know what you want, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Jooheon chewed on his bottom lip, staring at his feet as he pondered for a second. “I’m trying to keep my expectations low.”

“We both know that never works.”

“We’re just dealing with it one day at a time. Getting to know each other properly and all of that.”

Changkyun leaned back on his hands again and sighed, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “That is quite a sensible course of action.”

“It’s better than jumping into a relationship after only meeting a couple of times,” Jooheon said; the jab was not lost on Changkyun, who snorted at the comment.

“In my defense, I feel like I’ve known Hyungwon my whole life. I’ve felt like this since the moment I met him, so to me, my relationship with him was not rushed at all. And now that I’m living with him— it just feels like I’m where I’m supposed to be, you know?”

Jooheon watched Changkyun for a long moment, how his eyes softened and a faint smile appeared on his lips. He couldn’t help smiling a bit himself. “You’re really happy, then?”

Changkyun shot him a side glance and a grin. “I am. Living here is not all roses - Guhn makes it hard sometimes - but I  _ am _ happy. And Won is happy too, I think. I hope.”

“He sure seems happy to me.”

Changkyun chortled. “He really does, doesn’t he?” He then leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and his expression became slightly more serious when he looked at Jooheon. “Speaking from experience, if you feel something for Minhyuk, if you think he’s worth it, don’t let the chance pass you by. I can’t be certain of his feelings, but from what I’ve seen and heard, he  _ does _ feel something for you - something strong enough that he chose to stay for you. Just keep your eyes open, hm? I have it in good faith that you and Minhyuk will figure it out soon enough, but still— be careful.”

Jooheon gave Changkyun a small pat on the back in a silent ‘thank you’. “I take it that Hyungwon said something about me and him.”

“He might have made a prediction or two.”

Jooheon huffed. “I’d rather not know. I want to see how this turns out on my own.”

“So do I, honeypie. So do I,” Changkyun said with a tired tone and pushed himself up and off the bed. “Come on, let’s finish the tour and get you that chocolate cake I promised.”

Jooheon couldn’t have gotten up from the bed any faster.

◦ ◦ ◦

Minhyuk had always been unpredictable, but his sudden decision to stay in town surprised even himself. Over a week living there - with Jooheon, nonetheless - and he was still having trouble believing it.

He hadn’t regretted it just yet, however, and he didn’t think he would. Yes, it was new. Yes, it was scary. Yes, it was a risk - he didn’t care. He’d taken bigger risks for less worthy causes before, and Jooheon was worth it. Jooheon was worth any discomfort or confusion or fear he might feel over this decision, over the vulnerable position he’d put himself in.

Adjusting had been easy enough; he was an adaptable man, years of roaming molding him into someone who could settle down anywhere in very little time, and the fact that he was living with Jooheon was an added perk that helped him feel even more welcome. Jooheon was— wonderful. Simply wonderful.

What was  _ not _ wonderful, however, was the strange limbo into which they had fallen.

From the moment he’d kissed Jooheon that night, there had been nothing else in his mind but the desire to do it again - properly, this time. He thought he would never have the chance to, had decided the best course of action would be to store the memory away in that special place in his heart where he kept all the happiness and love, and to try to move on - that had been before his spontaneous choice of staying.  _ Now _ , living with Jooheon, seeing him every day, sharing a small apartment, and sleeping on a bed right across from Jooheon’s, everything had changed.

Everything, except their apparent inability to—  _ do _ something. At that point, they both knew they were interested in each other romantically; Minhyuk had kissed him, had stayed for him, and Jooheon had confessed his feelings for Minhyuk to an elephant thinking there was nobody else around.

They knew. Yet there they were. Not together. Not kissing.

It was rather frustrating, to say the least - Minhyuk was trying so very hard not to come on too strong in order not to scare his skittish honeypot, but Jooheon was not making it easy for him, not when he looked so— so like  _ that _ . The way he looked like. Like he deserved to be smooched. Like it was a sin and a personal failure not to be covering him with kisses and affection at all times.

To add insult to injury, the routine and dynamics they had settled into were quite— domestic. An old married couple type of domestic. They treated each other with nothing but care and concern, were learning each other’s likes and dislikes, had several inside jokes, and they even cuddled at times, when Minhyuk was feeling bold and Jooheon was receptive. Those moments were becoming more and more common as they got used to each other’s presence, as Jooheon began to let his guard down around him. As happy as that made him, it was still another thing that added to his frustrations.

He wanted to give Jooheon time, though. He didn’t want to rush into anything, especially if Jooheon wasn’t ready - Minhyuk was ready. He’d been ready the second he told Mark _ “You know what, I don’t think I’m coming after all” _ and ran the opposite way towards Jooheon’s place. His decision to stay was already a commitment, so if Jooheon said he wanted Minhyuk to dress as a woman to fool the nearest priest into marrying them, he would say yes in a heartbeat.

He  _ was _ quite eager to get to the honeymoon, in fact. A honeymoon with his honey, there was nothing more fitting and nothing he longed for more.

What he could not do was allow himself to dwell on it, lest his frustrations grew too big for him to contain - thus, he’d decided to use his newly acquired free time to chase down the answers to the inquiries he’d had to put on hold when he thought he was leaving: Hyungwon and his dirty little secrets.

If Jooheon thought he would let go of that particular bone, he could not be more wrong; whenever he had a chance, Minhyuk would leave the apartment under the pretext of seeking employment somewhere, and go out to conduct his investigation. Hyungwon’s vanishing act was still fresh and clear in his mind as if it had happened five minutes prior, and no matter what Changkyun and Jooheon said, Minhyuk had seen it. It wasn’t an illusion, he wasn’t distracted, he hadn’t imagined it - he’d  _ seen it _ . Hyungwon had either disappeared into thin air or he had the magical ability to walk through walls, and as ludicrous and absolutely insane as that sounded, Minhyuk could not explain what he’d witnessed any other way. What he knew - the  _ only _ thing he knew - is that Hyungwon was there, and then he wasn’t. Just like that.

At first, his investigation was mostly based on what he could find through talking to people. His inquiries regarding Hyungwon never bore much fruit - people knew  _ of _ him, either for being present in one of his séances or for hearing about him from others. Hyungwon had a reputation, but what made gossip circles so interested was the mystery itself.

Nobody knew anything solid about him. They knew he could speak with the voice of the dead, they knew he was a talented fortune teller, they knew he was rich and handsome, and that was it. Nobody knew where he came from, or of his life before he made a name for himself. He had no ties to that town, be it family or friends - besides Changkyun, that is, although Changkyun was new enough not to count. He couldn’t even find out if ‘Hyungwon’ was his real name. His surname, too, continued to elude him - Changkyun likely knew, so he might ask him personally the next time he came around to see Jooheon.

Still, finding a trail to follow back towards Hyungwon’s origins had proved to be quite the impossible task. Not even the public registry, which  _ should _ contain documents regarding the city’s residents, had not a single word about Hyungwon, no birth certificates, no bank statements regarding taxes, no passport - and wasn’t that odd: if Hyungwon had been on a world tour, as rumors stated, then he should have a passport. Unless, of course, he’d traveled illegally, which would not be that surprising.

It was as if Hyungwon didn't exist. 

The lack of revelations after several days made Minhyuk decide to take a step back and rethink his strategy. He hadn’t forgotten about his strange conversation with Hyungwon that night after one of his séances, so many weeks earlier.

He’d implied that Guhn should be the object of Minhyuk’s scrutiny instead of himself. Thus far, he had assumed it to be a way to deflect the attention from Hyungwon’s own lies and secrets, something Minhyuk dismissed out of principle; now, he was seeing it as a different approach. A new angle.

And that was when he began inquiring about Guhn instead.

Immediately he noticed the difference - he learned much more about Guhn in one day than he’d learned about Hyungwon in months, and the information he’d gathered on Guhn was not much. That was saying something.

It was, however, a start. Most of what he heard was the same rumor Jooheon had so hesitantly recited to him a couple of days prior - Guhn’s family house burned down and he disappeared for a while before reappearing with Hyungwon in tow. This rumor was repeated by most of the people he asked with some minor alterations here and there, but that was the gist of it.

The details of the tale were— lacking, to say the least. There was a lot of room for fancy, and fancy was not what he was after. He wanted the cold, hard facts.

He went to the neighborhood by the river, the one people often mentioned when recounting the tale. The neighborhood itself was middle class, the homes there well-taken care of, the families respectable and traditional. Asking around, he found that there had been, indeed, a fire - at the very end of a secluded street, easy to miss, easy to ignore, were the remains of what once had been a house. He didn’t know how long the charred bones of that residence had been there, as reports varied - some said two years, others said only one year, and a few said it had been at least five.

He shifted his inquiries from the fire to the family that used to reside there - there were five of them, the people said. The father, the mother, the mother’s younger sister, a little girl of about six years of age, and the oldest son. He assumed the latter to be Guhn.

“They were very private,” said one nice old lady who’d agreed to answer Minhyuk’s questions, and even let him into her home for tea the day prior. “They never attended the neighborhood’s gatherings.”

Prodding her a bit further, he learned that she had spoken to the wife, once.

“A nice lady, she was. Soft spoken, polite,” the woman said. “Very talented on the piano, too. She always looked so very sad, though.”

A sad housewife was not exactly news, so Minhyuk didn’t cling to that piece of information.

He learned that the young girl, the daughter, enjoyed playing in the front garden with a bright red ball in the summer, with a decorated dollhouse in the spring. She made snow angels all over the lawn in winter, and kicked dry leaves around in autumn. That made Minhyuk’s heart clench painfully; what a loss it was, that a young, vibrant child such as that little girl was now gone. He wondered how her life would be like if she was still around - she would probably be attending some fancy school or another. Maybe she would know how to play the piano like her mother. Maybe she would be looking forward to making snow angels in the lawn as fall reached its end and winter took its place.

There was not much to be said about the son. He was rarely ever around - boarding school kept him far from home for most of the year, and the old woman had never met him. She’d seen him, though; a tall, taciturn looking teen, always brooding. That certainly sounded like Guhn.

The wife’s sister was a young woman, friendly, according to Minhyuk’s helpful source; she was often seen tending to the flowers in the front garden, always offering smiles and cheerful greetings to passersby, yet somehow still not open enough to have made any friends in the neighborhood.

A private, reclusive family indeed.

The father was a businessman down on his luck. Early mornings, late nights. The old woman appeared not to like him much, considering how her face twisted with polite disdain when the topic turned to him.

“Awful man,” she said. “Acted as if he were the king of the hill, as if we should be honored to be even allowed in his presence. Between you and me,” she leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “I always thought he was a bit of a prick. Had his knickers in a twist, that one.”

Minhyuk wished the woman would adopt him as her grandson, he loved her so much.

With a man like that as a role model, it was not surprising that Guhn had turned out the way he did. And it made sense, in a way, that Guhn would seek a way to become rich; a financial downfall might have been hard on him, as Minhyuk had concluded the family had been wealthy once. That was a relatively expensive neighborhood for all that it was middle class, and the house appeared to have been on the larger side before the flames had shrunk it down to its bare bones. Business had been good for them, and then one day things changed, money stopped coming in, times became harder. A tale as old as walking forward.

The question was, when did Hyungwon come into play? Did they perhaps meet at the boarding school Guhn attended? Or did they meet after the fire, while Guhn was scrambling to piece his life back together?

Further digging was in order.

So that day, while Jooheon was off at the mansion visiting with Changkyun, Minhyuk decided to spend his time at the city archives looking for old newspapers with any information about the fire. Certainly, there must have been some news of it, considering the neighborhood and the scale of the tragedy.

He was ready for the deep dive he would have to take into old documents, too - he had a notepad, a pencil, and he’d brought snacks. There was a vendor right across the street that sold coffee, if he needed to take a break. He was prepared to spend hours in there.

And he did spend hours in there - but not as many as he thought he’d need to.

When the answers came, still not enough to reveal the full picture but a large portion of it, they came like an avalanche that buried Minhyuk’s expectations and threw him entirely for a loop.

It was a couple of hours into his research, a little after his second run to the vendor outside to get himself a refill of coffee, when he came across the first news article related to the fire. The date was closer to what Jooheon had told him than he expected - the date in the journal said it had been close to two years, not exactly what Jooheon had relayed to him, but close.

_ FAMILY HOME UP IN FLAMES; 4 DEAD, 1 SURVIVOR. _

The title felt too to the point, cold in its matter-of-factness. Minhyuk scrunched up his nose at it before he continued reading the short text that followed. The address matched, the number of people who died matched - their surname, however, did not.

It was not the Guhn family. It was the  _ Hughes _ family. 

Their names were there, too. The mother, Lucille Hughes. The mother’s sister, Lydia Moore. The young girl, Adeline Hughes - referred to as “Little Addie”. The teenage boy— Elliott Hughes.

And, finally, the sole survivor: Charles Hughes.

There was a picture along with the article, a family of five, stoically looking forward at the camera. Minhyuk could tell which of the women was the wife, Lucille - the one with sad eyes and rounded shoulders. Defeated, resigned. Her sister Lydia didn’t seem sad, but defiant, her chin raised as if daring anyone to approach. They looked alike, both with dark, wavy hair, and large doe eyes. Pretty, both of them. The boy, Elliott, had a weasel face, much like his father, but his hair was dark, his eyes larger. Little Addie had dark hair as well, curly at the tips, round cheeks and big eyes like her mother’s.

And then there was Charles Hughes, the only fair-haired person in that photo, looking exasperatingly arrogant. His hair was shorter, slicked back, business-like, very different from how he wore it now, but Minhyuk recognized that weasel face anywhere.

Guhn was not, then, the son - he was the father. The patriarch of the family, the businessman down on his luck who worked long hours to provide for his family.

It changed everything, forced Minhyuk to reconsider the entire situation from a different perspective. Charles Hughes, an ambitious man with delusions of grandeur, loses his family and his home while his business is sinking. Seeks out a way to make fast, easy money, finds a talented medium. The motherlode.

That narrative made sense.

But there was another narrative, a new angle, itching in his mind. It was far too awful to consider, but awful things happened all the time, whether Minhyuk liked thinking about them or not. He’d learned long ago that every angle must be considered when looking for facts, once all there is left is speculation.

What if— what if the fire was no accident?

Guhn could have done it to collect the insurance money on the house. Maybe the death of his family had been an unfortunate accident, an unforeseen casualty to his folly. Or maybe— maybe he’d meant to collect the insurance money on their lives as well.

And there was Hyungwon, too, to fit into that equation. If he hired Hyungwon, roped him into a business deal, then he must have had the means to pay for his services. Hyungwon would not have worked for free at the beginning, wouldn’t have helped Guhn rebuild his fortune from the ground without some compensation. That money must have come from somewhere, and if he was having financial troubles—

Where did the money come from?

_ ‘Do you think I am the one pulling the strings? The one who is capable of murder to achieve his ends?’ _

The memory of Hyungwon’s words chilled Minhyuk to the core. The implications of it— he couldn’t tell Jooheon. How could he tell him that his best friend might be living under the same roof as an arsonist? No, that would only cause Jooheon to freak out. He couldn’t tell him. He would have to talk to Changkyun directly, ask him about Guhn, if he noticed any odd behavior, had seen something strange, if Hyungwon mentioned anything. He had to warn him. Advise him to leave that place, with or without Hyungwon.

He needed to know more. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as his mind was making it out to be, so certainly if he kept looking he would find something more concrete to draw his conclusions from.

He scribbled down the date of the fire on his notepad, the names, all the relevant information he could take from that short article, and continued digging for more news regarding the case. Knowing the date helped him narrow down the scope of his research, and he focused only on the newspapers that had the same date as the fire, and up until a few weeks later, as there could be follow-up stories. 

There wasn’t much. The fire made the news, but it was not front page. Always a footnote, a short block of text, never enough details. All Minhyuk learned was that the origin of the fire could not be identified, but that it was thought to have started in the attic, in the middle of the night. It was ruled accidental by authorities. The bodies of each family member had been found in their respective beds, with the exception of Addie who was in her mother’s bed. The fire didn’t wake them. The cause of death, according to the last article he found, was attributed to smoke inhalation.

Minhyuk closed the newspaper and pushed it away from him, finally deciding he’d had enough. He took a deep breath, the strong scent of old books and paper and dust making the edges of his nostrils burn. So far, it appeared that Hyungwon had been telling the truth - he wasn’t the real villain there, was not the character whose motivations should be scrutinized. Guhn was.

Minhyuk put everything away where he’d found it, the stacks of newspaper he’d borrowed to comb through placed neatly back in their respective shelves, as the nice employee had asked him to do when he first arrived. Perhaps he’d missed something, but his mind was buzzing with everything he’d learned - and everything he didn’t.

As he gathered his belongings and walked out of the building, he could not help the thought that he was leaving with many more questions than he had when he came in.

Where and how did Guhn and Hyungwon meet? Was the fire an accident? Was Guhn responsible? Was Hyungwon involved? Did Hyungwon know the answers and was choosing to ignore it and continue to work for a man as awful as Charles Hughes? If he didn’t know, what kept him at Guhn’s side? It could not be only for the money. What little he could read off of Hyungwon’s demeanor made it clear that he longed for nothing more than to be away from Guhn, yet he had brought Changkyun, likely the only person he truly cared about, to live inside the viper’s nest with him.

Why would he do such a thing? If he knew, which was the likeliest possibility, then he’d willingly brought Changkyun into a dangerous place. Sure, love has the tendency to hinder one’s sight, but Hyungwon was intelligent and shrewd - he was not one to overlook danger, especially not if Changkyun could suffer for it. If he knew, then he must have some leverage or another to guarantee his safety and Changkyun’s.

Or maybe it was nothing. Maybe the fire truly was an accident, maybe Guhn paid for Hyungwon’s services with money he had saved up, and Minhyuk was seeing a convoluted plot of secrets and lies where there was none because he was biased against them. Yes, Guhn was an absolute asswipe, but being an absolute asswipe does not make someone a cold-blooded killer. And as for Hyungwon— their animosity aside, Minhyuk didn’t think he was one to commit murder either.

Of course, he could be wrong. He’d been wrong before. 

There was definitely something strange going on, though. He could feel it in his gut. He would talk to Changkyun about it the next time he came around, try to rope him into looking into Guhn along with him - Changkyun lived with him, had more access. Hyungwon would also be far more willing to talk to Changkyun about it than he would if it was Minhyuk asking the questions.

And, if he couldn’t convince Changkyun to help, at least he would warn him to be careful.

◦ ◦ ◦

As the saying goes, the devil is in the details.

It was small enough that, at first, Kihyun dismissed it as his own paranoia - seeing things that weren’t there only because he believed they existed.

Now, a little more than a week later, he was sure: it was there. He wasn’t imagining it.

Maybe it had been naive of him to think that telling Hoseok the entire truth about Hyunwoo’s condition would make things better, that it would create harmony between them, that they would be able to think of the best solution, the best use for the money they worked so hard for. It backfired entirely - they didn’t agree on anything. Hoseok wanted Kihyun to send him and Hyunwoo away to a facility, away from him, to avoid Kihyun getting sick too; Hyunwoo wanted to go forward with their original plan of getting a house, positive that, no matter what happened, it was a worthy investment; and Kihyun— he still didn’t know what he wanted to do.

And in the back of his mind, singing to him like a siren, was Hyungwon’s proposal. He didn’t tell Hoseok and Hyunwoo about it. He would not tell them. They would start believing Kihyun had gone mad or, worse, tell him to accept the deal without considering the consequences.

Hyungwon’s deal felt like a last resource, the solution Kihyun would turn to when he decided he had nothing else to lose and the risk was worth it, and— he was getting there.

He was getting to that point at top speed.

It was the little things. The hushed conversations that quieted whenever he entered the room. The perfectly reasonable excuses to maintain a certain distance between them - Hoseok was tired and wanted to rest, Hyunwoo was busy with something else, ‘but it’s so hot today!’, and the classic ‘I have a headache’. The way Hyunwoo, previously on board with their arrangement and no longer avoiding kissing Kihyun or being affectionate towards him, now barely touched him. How Hoseok, so needy of attention and company before, was now rejecting Kihyun’s offers to spend time with him.

They were subtle enough about it that catching on took a few days, but Kihyun was absolutely certain now that both his loves had discussed a new arrangement - and the arrangement was to keep him out.

He was sure it was not something they were doing out of malice. On the contrary - they loved him. If there was one thing Kihyun was sure about, this was it. They loved him. Pushing him away was not something they were doing because they didn’t want him anymore, but because they wanted to protect him; Kihyun understood that. Maybe he would do the same in their place, it was a logical precaution, but—

Kihyun had never felt more alone and more scared in his entire life than he did at that very moment.

He was losing them, both of them at the same time, and not because death loomed ever closer, but because they were choosing to leave him behind. Altruistic as their decision was, Kihyun could only see it as a decree that very soon he would be left with nothing. He would not be able to stop them from leaving if they decided to do so - he was just one now. He was the minority. Going up alone against their united front would be for naught, no matter how headstrong and feisty he was.

And even if they hadn’t so outwardly become a team, they now had something in common that Kihyun didn’t share with them; they now understood each other on a much deeper level, one knew what the other was going through, and Kihyun, with his two functioning lungs and good health, would never be able to relate. Not unless he contracted the illness himself, that is.

He’d stopped going out, be it for work or errands, afraid of returning to find the apartment empty and a goodbye note on the table. He didn’t put it past them to sneak away when he wasn’t around, running out on their own to a facility somewhere before Kihyun could stop them. Hoseok could be a persuasive little devil when he wanted to be, and he knew Hyunwoo well enough to whisper the right words into his ears and convince him to do it; Hyunwoo was fairly easy to influence, mellow as his personality was, and Kihyun knew he would never decide to leave him on his own.

Hoseok, though— Hoseok would not see it as abandoning Kihyun, but saving him. Sparing him of the same fate as theirs. He’d been sick for much longer, had suffered that terrible disease for long enough to know how bad it could get, and he would do anything to keep Kihyun from going through it.

Hoseok would want to be the hero, especially because he had no hope left for himself - Hoseok was aware he had no chance of recovery. He knew he would die. Convincing Hyunwoo to run away and check themselves in at a sanatorium would not only spare Kihyun, but give Hyunwoo a fighting chance by putting him right where the proper treatment was, whether Hoseok himself survived or not.

It was— genius, truly. The perfect strategy. Kihyun would be proud of Hoseok’s ingenuity if only that plan didn’t involve Kihyun losing everything he’d been fighting for. Everything he had to live for.

Without them, what was the point? If that’s how it would all play out, then wasn’t all the effort he put into keeping the three of them together in vain? If they would part anyway, then why did he work so hard, why did they suffer so much?

Kihyun would not have it. Hoseok was not the only one who could scheme, and Kihyun still had his very own wildcard hidden up his sleeve - Hyungwon. Whether it be an ace or a joker, that was still an option and a card that he was willing to drop if pressed.

There would soon be nothing left for him to lose - very soon. Both of his lovers were dying, and, if they somehow survived, there was a chance they would leave him anyway; distance like the one they were putting between them is not easy to close once everything is said and done. The farther away they got from one another, the easier it would be to give up on them entirely. The cracks in their once-solid foundation were there already, getting bigger every day, and if they didn’t fix it soon then it would all come crumbling down.

The one thing Kihyun didn’t want to do was act prematurely. He had no solid proof Hoseok had been scheming and, so far, he saw nothing to betray a possible escape - and he’d been looking for signs. He’d been looking for them  _ very _ thoroughly. In fact, he’d gone as far as to place a small wind chime on the handle of their front door under the pretext that the sound would help cheer up the place; what it truly was, was a trap.

If they tried to sneak away, he would hear them.

He had also angled his recliner to have a clear view of the entrance. He’d even wear his shoes to sleep some nights in case he had to get up in a hurry to chase one or two runaways.

If they wanted to run, then they were welcome to try.

And, yes, Kihyun was aware he was acting insane. No, he did not care.

It wasn’t about not wanting them to leave - it was a principle. If they wanted so badly to go to a sanatorium, then they could sit down as proper adults and loving partners, and tell him face to face. He would not accept being abandoned without a word, and  _ that _ — that was the issue there. Kihyun would never dream to stop them if they only were honest with him, if they told him that’s what they truly wanted; he was still reasonable, no matter how heartbroken he would be over their decision.

If they went behind his back, though— that was a break of trust. And if they broke his trust, then there would be hell to pay.

And Hyunwoo was already on thin ice.

It felt like a slap in the face - after everything he’d done for them, sailing on his own to the other side of the world and back, working himself to the ground, swallowing his grief every day like poison, only to have them shut him out when push came to shove.

Oh, no. He was not about to let that happen.

It was a petty, childish idea, but he figured it would send an effective message - he dragged their old armchair from the living room all the way to the bedroom, where Hoseok and Hyunwoo were snuggled together in bed having one of their whispered conversations. Hoseok looked extremely tired, the night before having been quite the difficult one, but Hyunwoo seemed to be doing fine, considering he’d spent most of the night awake tending to Hoseok and forbidding Kihyun to come help.

They stopped talking when they saw Kihyun enter, armchair in tow, and Kihyun pretended to be oblivious about it. He only met their eyes and smiled, as if nothing was wrong in the world, and dragged his chair to the corner next to the door.

Hyunwoo only stared at him with a puzzled expression, but Hoseok seemed alarmed.

“Ki, this is a quarantine zone now, you shouldn’t be near us!”

Kihyun dismissed the words with a gesture of his hand and fixed the armchair so it was facing the bed. “I’m nowhere near you, I’m on the other side of the room.”

“It’s a small room, Ki.”

Kihyun turned to them, a slight pout on his lips, and said in a semi-hurt tone, “But— I miss you. I feel like we haven’t talked in ages, so I thought—” He trailed off and sighed, lowering his head. Every motion calculated. It was manipulative and wrong and it made him feel dirty, but alas - years working with contraband taught him that, sometimes, you need to get a little dirty to get the job done. “You almost sound as if you don’t want me around.”

From the way Hoseok’s shoulders dropped along with his expression, Kihyun knew he’d hit the mark. “Of course not, we always want you around. We’re just trying to be careful.”

“Shouldn’t that be my choice?” Kihyun asked rhetorically, taking his book of Greek mythology from the armchair where he left it so he could take a seat. “It’s been so lonely being on my own all the time, I just thought it would be nice to sit here today to read. We might not be physically close, but I feel better here where you two are. Is that— is that not alright?”

Hoseok and Hyunwoo exchanged a look, and Kihyun could see the silent conversation happening between them as if it had a solid form. When they looked back at him, Hyunwoo, so far quiet and looking torn, was the one to speak.

“Yes, it’s alright. We miss spending time with you too.”

Kihyun beamed at them, no matter how he would much rather be shouting ‘ _ then why don’t you’  _ instead. “I promise I’ll behave.”

Hyunwoo chuckled. “I know you will, love.”

He settled on the chair a bit sideways, his legs crossed and positioned in a way that was both natural and obstructive, halfway across the entrance. That, too, was supposed to send a message:  _ if you want to leave, you have to go through me _ .

“You have the afternoon shift at the docks today?” he casually asked Hyunwoo as he opened the book to the page where he stopped the last time. At that point, he’d read through that entire book about three times already and was now on his fourth re-read - like he would find out that one clue that would make him realize the solution to his problems if he read it enough times.

“Yes, in a couple of hours,” Hyunwoo replied.

Kihyun shot Hoseok a placid smile. “It seems it’ll be just you and me today, bunny.”

Hoseok’s eyes narrowed minutely, but he still smiled back and said, “Maybe you can finally read some of those legends to me, then.”

“I’d love to.”

They held each other’s gaze for a few more seconds before Kihyun shifted his attention to his book, unbothered. Hoseok knew what was going on. Not surprising, not entirely unexpected. Good. Let him know Kihyun was no fool and that he was not happy. That he would not lose them without a fight.

Let him know.

◦ ◦ ◦

It was high afternoon when Jooheon finally returned to the apartment, and Minhyuk, who had been cleaning up the place out of a deep desire to be useful and a deep need to keep his mind off of everything he’d learned that day, stopped everything to greet him with a smile.

“Honey, welcome back!” he chirped, to then resume putting away a few plates he’d just finished washing. He might have gone to Jooheon and tried to snag a hug from him, but continuing his task gave him a moment longer to contain all the emotions that had been bubbling inside of him all afternoon, like a witch’s cauldron of dread and doubt.

Jooheon shot him a smile of his own and approached the kitchen counter, where he dropped a large brown paper bag. “Hey. I’ve brought some food, if you want it.”

Minhyuk put the last plate away inside the cupboard and made a beeline to the bag to take a peek inside, willing his curiosity to muffle the din caused by the rattling of concern in his head. “Oh? What is it?”

“There are many things. Cake, biscuits, sandwiches,” Jooheon listed. “The kitchen staff at the mansion are very nice - the head cook insisted I take all this. I think she unofficially adopted me.”

“Woah,” Minhyuk gasped when he opened the bag and saw the many containers held within. “This is enough for a whole meal, Honey!”

Jooheon rolled one shoulder, a close-lipped smile pushing his cheeks up in a way that his dimples made an appearance. “They’re very generous.”

Minhyuk sighed and turned to Jooheon with a little pout. “Actually… On my way back from downtown I also got you some food, I was worried you’d come home hungry.”

Wasted effort, he now realized. He’d been silly to think Changkyun wouldn’t stuff Jooheon with fancy food while he was there, although he didn’t particularly regret it - an effort for his honey was never truly a waste.

Jooheon blinked, surprise evident in his features. “You did?”

“Yes, it’s nothing much, just some roast beef sandwiches from that little place you like, the one near the docks.”

Jooheon’s expression softened, a small breath escaping his lips. Minhyuk ignored the urge to kiss him. “You went all the way over there to get them?”

“Oh, you know,” Minhyuk said dismissively, ducking his head and shoving his hands in the back pockets of his trousers. “I was in the neighborhood.”

He was most definitely  _ not _ in the neighborhood. It had been a long walk to the docks, but Minhyuk had needed the trip to clear his head, find his center again. His course was, in fact, decided based on wanting to buy Jooheon a treat, so he hadn’t been an afterthought, on the contrary - Minhyuk just took the chance to both do something for Jooheon and do something for himself. He had a late lunch by the river, watching the dark waters roll by lazily down to sea, listening to dockworkers and fishermen shouting around him, and it helped ease his mind a little, all that distraction.

He couldn’t tell Jooheon that, of course. A half-truth would have to suffice.

“I— thank you. I’ll have them for dinner.” Jooheon then cleared his throat and fished something out of the bag he’d brought. “Ah, you mentioned you like lemon tarts once, so I asked for extra. Here.” He offered the container to Minhyuk; he felt as if his heart had melted inside his chest like butter under the sun, and sheepishly took the container.

“Thank you, honey,” he murmured, unable to stop himself from smiling. They stared at each other for a few charged seconds, and Minhyuk finally managed to catch himself from the urge that had been building up to surge forward and kiss him again, and asked, “So, how was it?”

Jooheon gave him a shrug and began moving out of the kitchen and towards the living room. Minhyuk followed, the container of lemon tarts still held against his chest as if it were something precious. Which it was. 

“It was— much better than I thought it would be,” Jooheon said as he took a seat on the couch. Minhyuk didn’t waste a moment to get himself comfortable next to him, keeping only enough distance to allow Jooheon his personal space. “That place is  _ so _ big! Changkyun showed me around, I don’t think I’ve ever walked so much in my life.”

“What does it look like?” Minhyuk prodded, opening the container and promptly sighing at the smell of fresh lemon tarts that greeted him. “Oh wow.”

“Those are amazing, the head cook, Mrs. Kim, she’s probably the best cook in the world,” Jooheon said, pointing at the tarts. Taking the conversation back to the previous topic once Minhyuk had tried the tart and almost cried at the magnificent taste, Jooheon answered his question. “The place is not as scary-looking as you’d think. It looks quite normal on the inside, despite being obviously fancy. The general mood of the mansion, though…”

Minhyuk, not bothering to finish chewing his food before speaking, asked around a mouthful of tart, “Creepy?”

“Yes,” Jooheon answered without thinking twice. “I constantly felt watched while in there. And Kyun— he was so on edge. Something strange is definitely going on there.”

This time, Minhyuk took his time to chew and swallow his treat, giving himself a moment to think of his next words carefully. Knowing what he knew now, he had one or a thousand theories regarding what was going on at the mansion - might as well be Guhn’s poor family haunting their heartless father. He couldn’t mention that to Jooheon, though; Jooheon would most likely be terrified if he knew, and Minhyuk, no matter how much he was itching to talk about it with someone, would not put Jooheon through that.

Once his mouth was empty of any food, he asked, “What about Hyungwon? Was he too obnoxious? Do I need to teach him a lesson?”

Jooheon opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, no sound coming out. Minhyuk arched a suspicious brow. “About him.”

Minhyuk’s eyes narrowed on instinct. “What did he do this time?”

“He— he didn’t do anything,” Jooheon said, and he seemed every bit as surprised as Minhyuk was upon hearing the affirmation. “He was very polite to me and didn’t try to scare me even once.”

Minhyuk’s immediate reaction was to be skeptic about it. “Is that so?”

“It is! He said I’m always welcome there and— he even said I could bring you along next time.”

His suspicion only grew stronger. “My archnemesis inviting me into his evil lair? Smells like a trap.”

Jooheon gave him a shrug in response. “I don’t know about any traps, all I know is what he told me. He said he has some items you’d find interesting.”

“Yes, it’s definitely a trap,” Minhyuk concluded, taking another tart from the container. “I’m not falling for his sudden kindness.”

“I don’t know…” Jooheon said, shifting slightly where he sat as if he was not so certain about what was about to come out of his mouth. “After speaking with him today and seeing how he behaves around Changkyun… What if we were wrong about him?”

Oh, no. Jooheon had fallen into Hyungwon’s clutches. He should have known that would happen.

He dropped the tart back inside the container and half-turned to Jooheon, grabbing the sleeve of his coat urgently. “No, no, no, he’s hiding something and it’s nothing good, I’m telling you, we were absolutely not wrong about him.”

“I— I just don’t think he as evil as we thought he was. He seemed like a normal person today,” Jooheon continued, giving Minhyuk a strange look. “It was as if I was meeting an entirely different man. And the way he looks and talks to Changkyun—”

Minhyuk sighed, hand falling on his lap as he leaned back on the couch again. A different feeling took hold of him, one he was intimately familiar with but could never quite describe. It wasn’t remorse. It wasn’t longing. It wasn’t love, but it was not hatred, either. It was nostalgia, but for a time he didn’t want back. It was a wish things had been different, but gladness that he’d gotten out of that situation and found greener pastures. It was blaming himself, and knowing he was not to blame.

“A person can be in love and also be evil,” Minhyuk finally murmured, having to make a conscious effort not to raise his hand to touch the old scar on the back of his head. “I would know.”

Jooheon stared at him in silence for a long moment. Minhyuk refused to look back at him.

“I’m not going to ask,” Jooheon said. “I can see this is something that bothers you, but— you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

This made Minhyuk raise his head to meet Jooheon’s eyes. Such pretty eyes his honey had, such long lashes. He managed to conjure a smile, an attempt at easing Jooheon’s mind. “It’s not something I want to burden you with, honey. I’m alright.”

“It’s not a burden,” Jooheon mumbled as his eyes shifted away, his cheeks going a lovely shade of pink that had Minhyuk’s entire being endeared. “It’s— I know you struggle with this, but I don’t care about your scar or your past or— I mean, I  _ do _ care, but I don’t  _ care _ , you see? I— Sorry.”

Minhyuk couldn’t help a small chuckle at how flustered Jooheon became all out of sudden. “It’s alright, honey, I understand what you meant.” He closed the container of tarts and put it aside before scooting closer to Jooheon on the couch, hugging his arm and resting his head on his shoulder. Jooheon didn’t flinch at the contact, not like he used to. It made Minhyuk happy.

“I just meant that I don’t mind what happened in your past,” Jooheon said, seeming to have finally found some clarity amidst the mess of his thoughts. “I care more about your present.”

Minhyuk tipped his head up so he could look at Jooheon, heart feeling fuzzy, head feeling light. “What about the future?”

“The future—” Jooheon stammered, licking his lips nervously and shifting where he sat. “The future too.”

“Honey—”

“Are we ever going to talk about that night?” Jooheon’s question came suddenly and in a soft murmur that Minhyuk felt all through his body. “Why— why did you kiss me?”

_ Finally _ , Minhyuk thought, trepidation rising inside him along with excitement. “I thought you knew the answer to that, honey.”

“I… no, I don’t,” he admitted. His cheeks became pinker. “Was it… was it just impulse?”

Minhyuk startled at the question and sat up, eyes wide as he stared at Jooheon. “No! I mean, part of it was, I— I thought I would never have another chance and you were right there in front of me, and you had said all those things—”

“O-oh, right,” Jooheon mumbled. “It’s alright if you didn’t mean to do it, it’s—”

“Honey, stop,” Minhyuk said, taking one of Jooheon’s hands with both his own. Jooheon didn’t raise his eyes to look at him. “It wasn’t just impulse, it was— it was not as much an impulse as it was a burst.” After a brief pause, he added in a low voice, “I’d wanted to kiss you for a long time.”

“Oh.”

“I still do.”

“...oh.”

Minhyuk chewed his bottom lip, gazing at Jooheon expectantly. He thought he’d made it clear to Jooheon what his feelings were, what he wanted to happen between them, but he’d always had this one flaw: while he was good at reading others, able to decipher their thoughts and history just by observing them, he was never quite adept at self-awareness. He never knew how to express his intentions clearly if not outright speaking them out loud, and— he’d never told Jooheon of what he felt, had he? He thought his actions would speak louder, that he wouldn’t have to say the words. Saying them felt like casting a spell, making it real, binding. He’d been afraid before, of what he was feeling, the potency of it unlike anything he’d felt before, but now—

He was still afraid, terrified, but it was a different type of fear. Once, he’d feared falling and crashing headfirst into hard, unforgiving ground, feared the consequences and all the things that could go wrong. Now he had already fallen, and his fear was of letting go. His fear was rejection. His fear was having to force himself to give up now that he’d finally found something he wanted to hang on to.

It wasn’t a secret to himself anymore, and it hadn’t been for a while: he loved Jooheon. He was head over heels in love with him. He’d come to terms with it, accepted his feelings for what they are, understood he could not wish them away. And he decided to take a chance.

Jooheon, for all that he was shy and timid, seemed to have feelings for Minhyuk too - perhaps not love, but close enough. Minhyuk didn’t mind. Jooheon might never come to fully love him, and he was alright with that. Painful as it would be, the only thing Minhyuk wanted was to make Jooheon happy, be it as his friend or his lover. He just wanted to remain in his orbit, be near him, a happy little satellite circling the moon.

The seconds slowly ticked by and Jooheon still said nothing more. Minhyuk felt a tightness in his chest, pressing on his heart. Expectation, hope, fear.

He couldn’t take it anymore. “What’s the matter, honey? Is that not what you wanted to hear?”

“I— it is,” Jooheon said, shooting furtive glances Minhyuk’s way. “I’m not sure where to go from here.”

Minhyuk forced down the lump in his throat and asked, “Where do you want to go from here?”

Jooheon simply shrugged, a helpless rise and fall of his shoulders that spoke volumes. Minhyuk thought that was all the reply he would get, but after several seconds Jooheon finally said, “You told me you don’t do love, once.”

Minhyuk pursed his lips and lowered his head. Yes, he did say that. No, he did not mean it - he’d been angry and frustrated and ashamed that night, and he lashed out. He tried to defend something that didn’t even need defending, and by doing so he had hurt Jooheon and given him the wrong idea. Everything that came after was his fault, all the fighting, all the misunderstandings, the avoiding, the running away, all of it was his fault for being a coward. It was past time he fixed it.

“That— it was a lie.”

Jooheon jerked next to him, surprised if his wide eyes were any indication, and peered at him for a quick moment before turning away again. “O-oh. Understood.”

“The truth is… I struggle a little, you see, with becoming attached to people.” He fidgeted where he sat, wringing his fingers over his lap as a way to release all the pent-up anxiety. “I don’t like feeling vulnerable. Emotionally, that is. And all of a sudden you came along and I got— scared.”

Jooheon turned to look at him again, a confused frown on his face. “Uh…  _ you _ were scared of  _ me?” _

“Terrified,” Minhyuk confirmed with ease. He was past the point of denying it. “Not of you, but of what you made me feel. I still am, to tell you honestly. Caring so much about someone… It’s frightening. I said all those things to try to protect myself, and I’m so incredibly sorry, I cannot begin to express how sorry I am.”

“It’s alright, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Jooheon said. Minhyuk’s shame only grew in the face of Jooheon’s golden heart, how easily he granted him forgiveness. He didn’t deserve someone as good as Jooheon - which didn’t matter, in the end. He wanted Jooheon. He would not give up on him ever again, no matter if Jooheon was too good for him. “Actually… I’m scared of you, too.”

Minhyuk blinked. “You what?”

“I can’t seem to understand you,” Jooheon continued, and now he was the one wringing his fingers anxiously. “I never know what you’re thinking or— or what your intentions are.”

“Jooheon, I—”

“I don’t want to be just another one.”

Minhyuk clamped his mouth shut as his eyes widened again. Jooheon’s cheeks were bright red, as were the tips of his ears, and during the several seconds that Minhyuk stared at him, dumbfounded, Jooheon stubbornly refused to meet his gaze, keeping his head low and line of sight trained on his nervous fingers.

Minhyuk felt like the stupidest person on the planet. It was exactly as he’d suspected, but to now have confirmation thrown at him in such a candid manner— 

“You’re not just another one.” He took both of Jooheon’s hands, turning on the couch in such a way that he ended up fully kneeling on it, all the while staring fervently at Jooheon. “Honey, I promise, this isn’t just a fancy of mine, you— you’re everything, I told you that. I meant it.”

Somehow, Jooheon’s ears found a way to become even redder. “You’ve been with so many people,” he said, his voice clipped as if he was forcing himself to say them out loud through the embarrassment, “and I— I haven’t. And I’m not very interesting or adventurous or attractive and—”

“What do you mean, you’re gorgeous—”

“I’m scared you’ll realize all of this and leave.”

“Oh, my honey,” Minhyuk said as he wrapped his arms around Jooheon in a tight, protective hug. Jooheon didn’t protest. “I wouldn’t have stayed if I planned to leave soon after. I’m not going anywhere.” He nuzzled Jooheon’s cheek affectionately, eliciting a shy, dimpled smile from his honey. “All I want is to be with you, be it as your friend, or your lover, or the guy who takes daily walks to the docks to buy you sandwiches.”

His words made Jooheon laugh, his guarded stance easing the littlest bit. He looked up at Minhyuk then, face so close to his own Minhyuk could count his lashes if he so wished. “You mean that? You’ll stay?”

“Yes,” he said, honest as can be, not hesitating for a second. “I’m not going anywhere, not unless you want me to go.”

“Never,” Jooheon whispered, and this was it - everything Minhyuk needed to hear, compiled in that one single word.

This time around, when they kissed, Minhyuk wasn’t frightened. He wasn’t in a hurry, wasn’t holding back, wasn’t desperate. When he kissed Jooheon, slow and careful, handling him as the precious being he truly was, there was only one thing on his mind - his days of running away were over.

He was exactly where he was supposed to be.

◦ ◦ ◦

Changkyun noticed Hyungwon’s mood sour little by little as the time to leave for the party approached. It was a subtle change, only noticeable because Changkyun was so in tune with Hyungwon, spent so much time around him, more than enough to be able to tell when something was wrong. He didn’t worry about it, at first - Hyungwon hated parties and other social events, so chalking it up to dread at the entire situation felt like a sure bet.

It made sense - Hyungwon had been fine earlier, and Changkyun would go as far as to say he was in a  _ very _ good mood since morning and throughout most of the afternoon. Even keeping his promise not to scare Jooheon didn’t seem like a huge effort to him; his welcoming words and gestures had all been genuine, none of it faked or forced, so Changkyun had good reason to believe it was all about the upcoming party.

And Changkyun himself wasn’t the reason either, judging from how Hyungwon was as loving and sweet as he’d always been towards him while they were getting ready together. Of that, he was absolutely certain.

Thus, his logical decision was that he should, at the very least, try to not make Hyungwon more upset than he already was. If anyone could perform such a feat, it was him - conceited as that sort of thinking was, he knew it to be the truth. He was the only person Hyungwon allowed to be around him, the only one Hyungwon  _ wanted _ around, the only one Hyungwon trusted. That night, he would be the only one Hyungwon could turn to in a sea of strangers; while also dreading that night himself, Changkyun was prepared to endure it and behave, not to add to Hyungwon’s troubles. He would keep his mouth shut and only speak when spoken to, not touch anything he was not supposed to, be polite even to the rudest person at that party, and he would be ready to comfort Hyungwon the best way he could in a public setting.

They entered the carriage first, as Guhn was making his last-minute preparations and giving out orders to the servants, and Changkyun took that last moment of relative peace to ask, “Are you alright, baby?”

Hyungwon, looking like an absolute prince in his deep blue formal wear, gave him a tired smile and simply said, “Tonight will be rather bothersome.”

“We were expecting that already,” he said, and placed a hand on Hyungwon’s leg. He hoped the contact would be soothing, but Hyungwon didn’t appear to be comforted by it in the slightest. “What’s on your mind?”

Hyungwon bit his lower lip, a thoughtful frown on his face as he looked down at Changkyun’s hand on his leg. Changkyun waited, ever-patient, for Hyungwon to translate his thoughts into words - sometimes, his ideas were too abstract to express coherently, something Changkyun pegged as a direct result of having a head full of ghosts. He knew now when Hyungwon was inclined to speak and when he wasn’t, could tell the subtle nuances of Hyungwon’s sense of forthcomingness, and, this time, he had something to say.

It was not, however, what Changkyun was expecting to hear.

“Whatever happens tonight,” Hyungwon said at last, “you must not lose your temper.”

Changkyun frowned, bemused. “Is there a specific reason for that request or is it simply because we’ll be surrounded by infuriating individuals?”

Hyungwon thought for a second before saying, “Both.”

That made him falter in his previous decision to behave. With a resigned sigh, he asked, “And what is the specific reason?”

Again, Hyungwon took a moment to think of an answer. “To sum up, Guhn will try to test my patience, as he is wont to do.”

Changkyun inhaled deeply through his nose, already feeling the anger stir inside him. “What will he do?”

“The same he always does,” Hyungwon said in a dismissive way that was a clear attempt at making it sound trivial. Changkyun knew better. “Tonight, though, you must remain calm. Don’t lose your composure, don’t try to defend me.”

Changkyun shook his head, immediately rejecting that request. “I will not sit idly by and let you be mistreated.”

“You need to remember that we'll be in public. I can handle anything that is thrown my way and I have had enough practice to do it without causing a scene, so— please, Kyun?”

The request was so earnest, the look in Hyungwon’s eyes so pleading, that Changkyun could do nothing but nod in compliance. “Very well. I make no promises, but I will try.”

“Thank you,” Hyungwon exhaled the words, leaning in to rest his forehead against Changkyun’s, eyes closed as if he was trying to gather his energy. “I know it’s not an easy thing, what I’m asking of you tonight. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’ll make it up to  _ me _ ? You’re the one who will have to handle Guhn, if anything I should be the one making it up to you.”

“I’m the one who brought you into the snake’s nest, it’s my responsibility to make sure you are safe,” Hyungwon said, opening his eyes to meet Changkyun’s own; it was always an odd experience to look into Hyungwon’s eyes from so up close - odd, but not unpleasant. Never unpleasant. “We are approaching a crossroads, my love. The next few days will be difficult, but pivotal to our future.”

Changkyun’s heart dropped like a brick, his throat tight with concern. “Is this about the contract?”

“In a way.”

Taking a deep breath to reel in his anxiety, Changkyun brought a hand up to Hyungwon’s face, pressed a quick kiss to his lips. He wasn’t sure if the gesture was to ease Hyungwon’s mind or his own, but he was certain it accomplished neither. “You have never led me astray before. If you say I must control myself, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Thank you,” Hyungwon whispered again, a tired smile on his lips. The look in his eyes did nothing to lessen Changkyun’s worries.

“For what it’s worth,” Changkyun said, somehow managing to sound as if he was in a better mood than he actually was, “you look lovely tonight.”

Hyungwon’s smile widened into something much more genuine. “You look quite handsome yourself.”

“Thank you, I combed my hair.”

Changkyun allowed the giggle that escaped Hyungwon’s lips to act as a balm to his concerned mind, willed the sound to be a promise that everything would work out fine in the end. He wanted to believe it - it was about their future, their freedom. If the price to pay for it was to stand aside and let Hyungwon fight the coming battles on his own, he would force himself to do it even if it killed him inside.

He had to remind himself that Hyungwon knew more than he let on. Not only that, but he’d been around Guhn for longer, knew his tricks and how to thwart them, and he knew what their contract entailed - Changkyun knew nothing about any of it. He was powerless in that war, no matter how much he yearned to be of use, to make a difference. At the end of the day, the task had always been on Hyungwon’s shoulders, to come out of that struggle victorious. Changkyun was only there to cheer him on.

And yet, he hated it.

There had to be something he could do, a way to help - he simply hadn’t thought of it yet.

He could not dwell on those thoughts, however, for Guhn decided to join them at that very moment, not even bothering to hide the roll of his eyes when he saw the affectionate position he and Hyungwon were caught in. Neither himself or Hyungwon paid him much mind, simply returning to their initial positions of sitting side by side like well-behaved children without any hurry or contrition.

Guhn gave the ceiling of the carriage two taps once the door was closed, and just like that, they were moving. The silence inside the carriage, dense enough to slice with a knife, was brief.

“I hope you two remember yourselves tonight,” Guhn said, speaking to the both of them but glaring at Hyungwon, specifically. “I want none of your sickening displays, I will not suffer public humiliation over your abominable relationship.”

Changkyun’s hand tightened into fists atop his thighs, and it took everything in him to keep his mouth shut. Hyungwon had asked him to behave tonight, and he assumed the request extended to the entire evening and not only to the party.

Hyungwon scoffed. “Don’t worry, Charles. We have been in public together before, we know not to rub our affair in people’s faces.”

“If only I could be spared of it as well.”

Changkyun looked up at Hyungwon just in time to see his lips twitch before he said, “If only you were ‘people’.”

Guhn let out a mirthless chuckle. “Look who’s talking.”

Unable to help himself, Changkyun placed his hand on Hyungwon’s leg once more, both to soothe his lover and to keep himself from using that same hand to punch Guhn’s teeth in. Guhn’s eyes followed the movement, but Changkyun kept his hand in place; Hyungwon had given him permission to show off their relationship, and when a chance like that presented itself, he simply had to take it.

Hyungwon himself seemed not to take Guhn’s aversion to them seriously, for he placed his own hand atop Changkyun’s. It sent a clear message to Guhn - neither of them cared what he thought.

“As I said,” Hyungwon digressed, “we know how to behave in public. Rest assured, I want people’s scrutiny away from us as much as you do, not for your reputation’s sake, but for Changkyun’s safety.”

The laughter that came out of Guhn’s mouth this time was scornful, the sound of it making yet another wave of anger surge through Changkyun’s body. “You talk as if a creature like you is capable of caring about anyone other than yourself.”

This time, Changkyun was held back from physically attacking Guhn by Hyungwon himself, who held his hand tight as to keep it in place, to remind Changkyun to remain calm.

“Just because the only emotion I harbor towards you is contempt, it does not mean I feel the same way about everyone else,” Hyungwon said, the picture of composure. “Pray do not project unto me your own atrophied heart.”

Changkyun ducked his head and bit his lips not to smile. He’d always known Hyungwon could be feisty, yet he was never ready to witness it without feeling smug in Hyungwon’s stead, proud of his bravery, his defiance. His pride was often short-lived - he could never go very long without worrying for Hyungwon’s safety anytime he bared his teeth, for he knew Guhn was one for retribution. That night, judging from the look in Guhn’s eyes, any retribution would be merciless and swift.

“Bold words coming from you, dear,” Guhn said with a disdainful sniff. “As long you keep yourself in check and your pet firmly on his leash tonight, we’ll have no quarrels.”

Hyungwon chuckled through his nose. “Please. We’ve had a quarrel from the moment you forced me to attend this gathering. One does not need to be psychic to divine your intentions.”

“Then you know perfectly well the role you must play.”

Changkyun raised his head to look at Hyungwon, finding a calm expression on his face that he knew to be a fabrication - he knew Hyungwon well enough to know he was seething. In fact, if he stopped to truly focus, he could almost feel Hyungwon’s outrage seeping into his pores, mixing with his own.

When Hyungwon next spoke, his true feelings didn’t show - he only sounded uninterested. “Say, are they paying customers or do you aim to make an offering of my services for the sake of impressing your colleagues?”

“Which do you think?”

“I think it doesn’t make a difference - I will not put on a show for your friends.”

“You  _ will _ ,” Guhn said— no,  _ ordered _ , like a parent trying to force their will upon a rebellious child. “You will do as I say or—”

“Or what?” Hyungwon interrupted, disinterest again replaced by defiance. Changkyun wanted to get between them, defend him, but he had not the first clue what to say to make things less hostile. He could hardly even keep up with the conversation. “You’ll drag me by the ear? Hold me at gunpoint? We’ll be in public, darling - I’m not the only one who will be on display, and I couldn't care less about your reputation.”

Guhn’s nostrils flared, Hyungwon the clear winner of that exchange. Whatever mental game of chess they were playing, Guhn didn’t seem to be very good at it; he wanted to win through will and force alone, but his wit was no match for Hyungwon’s. And perhaps it was a rigged game, considering Hyungwon knew far more than Guhn did, could glimpse into the future and prepare ahead, while Guhn was left to react to things as they happened. Guhn lacked the composure Hyungwon possessed, the control over his emotions. He was quick to anger, had a temper as volatile as an active volcano, and Changkyun knew how rage can be blinding - he’d done many things he regretted in anger, in the past, as did Jooheon, and neither of them were particularly angry people. Guhn, on the other hand—

“The contract states you are to perform whenever I tell you to,” Guhn said, as if that was the final argument.

Changkyun tensed at the mention of the contract, out of ignorance most of all - he did not know what it said, didn’t know the terms, what Hyungwon was legally bound to do.

Hyungwon still remained calm. “The contract states I am to perform whenever you tell me to  _ for profit _ . I am not a trained pony you can parade before your friends for entertainment.”

Guhn pressed his lips together, clearly unhappy with how his only argument had been shot down so easily. “You want to speak of profit, very well - let’s talk about the strange activity in my bank account.”

_ That _ caught Changkyun by surprise, and he looked up at Hyungwon for guidance, for answers. Hyungwon gave his hand a squeeze, a silent way to communicate to him there was nothing to be worried about. Guhn glanced briefly at Changkyun, gauging his reaction, before his eyes focused on Hyungwon again.

“Is that why you dismissed your valet and one of our footmen?”

Again, Changkyun was at a loss - he didn’t know Guhn had fired his valet, as he never had to be around the man, and while he did notice that one of the footmen  _ had _ been conspicuously absent lately, it hadn’t felt odd at all to him. Still, he had no idea of the goings-on with the staff at the mansion. It felt like everything was happening in a completely different dimension and right under his nose at the same time.

Hyungwon hadn’t said anything to him about it. He wanted to believe it was because those facts were unimportant, but judging from Guhn’s reactions, the way he was watching them as if looking for any signs of guilt, Changkyun was now suspecting that Hyungwon’s motives for secrecy had to do with a wish to protect him from the fallout - he couldn’t be blamed for something he had no knowledge of.

Who would protect Hyungwon, though?

“You are aware, then,” Guhn said in an accusatory tone, eyes narrowed dangerously.

“I am a psychic. I am aware of most things.”

Changkyun gave Hyungwon’s hand a squeeze, trying to tell him to get rid of his snark before Guhn flew into a rage. Hyungwon didn’t pay him any mind.

“Then tell me, who is moving my money around?” Guhn asked. “If you are aware of most things, certainly you can answer this question.”

“I can,” Hyungwon said, his lips immediately taken over by a smug grin. “I’d rather watch you try to figure it out on your own, though. It’s more amusing that way.”

Changkyun took a deep breath, as discreetly as he could. Hyungwon was not helping his case. Unless the plan was to make Guhn more suspicious of him and garner his wrath - in that case, Hyungwon was doing a marvelous job.

The glare Guhn reserved for Hyungwon was so intense it could curdle milk. “If I find out that you are the one who has been stealing my money—”

“Have you considered that housemaid you’re screwing?” Hyungwon asked, the words rolling off his tongue with the cadence of one talking about the weather. Changkyun was, yet again, surprised - how did he not know about Guhn fooling around with a maid? He’d heard he was inappropriate with a few of the servants, but he had never heard of him having an on-going ‘affair’ with one of them. Did he know nothing of what happened at the mansion? “She certainly had ample opportunity to snoop around in your office while you were distracted with her— assets.”

“The fact you are pointing at her might as well be proof of her innocence,” Guhn said.

Hyungwon leaned forward, one elbow resting on his knee and his chin on his hand, still smiling in that overconfident way that had Guhn bristling and Changkyun worrying. “You seem to have already made up your mind that I am responsible, but allow me to pose you this question: why would I want your money if I have my own? Unlike you, I don’t spend it so often and have quite the large sum saved up, even counting with the money I now share with Changkyun. So why, darling, would I use  _ your _ bank account as a playground?”

Guhn’s eyes turned from Hyungwon to Changkyun, and  _ that _ was a threat if Changkyun ever saw one. “Why, indeed.”

Hyungwon laughed derisively at the veiled accusation, no matter how Changkyun could feel him tense up under his touch. “You can leave him out of this, Charles. He is not responsible and I know to keep an eye on him, not out of mistrust, but to make sure he doesn’t stumble into your affairs. Changkyun is the last person you need to worry about.” Hyungwon leaned back in his seat, his eyes gleaming with so many contained emotions Changkyun had to wonder how he managed to keep himself so composed. Practice, he concluded. “Besides, even if he is somehow involved without my knowledge, which is unlikely, I will take full responsibility for his actions.”

“You’d go so far to protect him?”

“Farther.” Hyungwon’s immediate answer had Changkyun’s heart bursting with affection. “I stand by my previous words, though - he has nothing to do with it.”

“Are you certain?” Guhn’s question was posed as a challenge, one Hyungwon didn’t seem to take very seriously. “The suspicious activity began around the time he arrived.”

Changkyun was getting quite tired of how they were both talking about him as if he weren’t sitting right there. 

“Are  _ you _ certain?” Hyungwon tossed back without missing a beat. “Or did you only notice it when he arrived because you decided to look for it?” Guhn’s lack of response caused Hyungwon’s grin to widen - the cat who caught the canary. “Prejudice is such an outdated fad, dear. May this serve as a lesson to you - if you only see one explanation for your troubles, you’ll end up blind to the truth. Changkyun is innocent of this, so you might as well turn to other suspects.”

It was Guhn’s turn to grin as if he was on top of the world, looking pointedly at Hyungwon. “Oh, I only have the one suspect.”

Hyungwon giggled as if he wasn’t being accused of stealing. “No proof, no crime. By all means, do try to catch me, if you can. I doubt you can, for I have nothing to do with this either.”

“I suppose we shall see,” Guhn said and, finally, settled back in his seat to relax for the rest of the journey.

Hyungwon, too, relaxed from his defensive stance, the grip he had on Changkyun’s hand becoming loose enough that he could move it to lace their fingers together. He gave Hyungwon’s hand a tug to catch his attention, meeting his eyes to pose the silent question regarding his well-being. Hyungwon’s answer was a soft smile, tight-lipped and tired, but that clearly stated he was alright. For now, at the very least.

The rest of the journey was silent, a silence that was heavy and uncomfortable, the small space of the carriage seeming even smaller in the presence of their contempt towards each other. Changkyun at least had Hyungwon, as Hyungwon had Changkyun; they weren’t alone, could rely on one another, unlike Guhn.

He felt sorry for Guhn, underneath all the hatred. Bitter and lonely, hanging on to his fortune as if it was the only thing that could bring him happiness. The poor fool.

The place where the party was being held was a mansion - not as vast and imposing as  _ their _ mansion, but still impressive. Guests and servants were already swarming the halls, the orchestra playing an upbeat tune, chatter and laughter adding to the cacophony.

Changkyun kept himself one step behind Hyungwon, often placing a subtle hand on his lower back - for support, for comfort, for inquiring wordlessly of his well-being. Hyungwon would look over at him and smile, brittle as the quirk of his lips was.  _ Don’t worry _ , that smile said. As if it was possible for Changkyun not to worry.

To his surprise, he was not ignored all night, as most servants would be. Hyungwon insisted on introducing him to whoever stopped to talk to him and Guhn - his  _ associate _ , not servant, not assistant.  _ Associate. _ His partner. His equal. It was the closest they could get from declaring their true role in each other’s lives without attracting suspicion, and Changkyun’s heart would swell more each time Hyungwon would motion towards him - ‘ _ this is Changkyun, my associate.’ _

And then he would come right back down from the clouds when Guhn laughed and said  _ ‘Just call him Daniel, it’s much easier to pronounce. These Korean names are such a mouthful, are they not?’ _

Prick.

In hindsight, maybe Changkyun should not have given Guhn that alternative and forced him to learn how to pronounce his name instead, as Hyungwon had done. Alas, too late.

Changkyun was far better at faking to be part of that world than Hyungwon, Guhn, or himself expected. His polite smile would not falter, he followed every etiquette rule to perfection, spoke to every single person with deference and enunciating his words well. Yes, some of it he’d learned from Hyungwon, be it directly or indirectly, but some of it he figured out all on his own from simply watching rich people in their natural habitat. Hyungwon seemed impressed - proud, even. It only boosted Changkyun’s pride and confidence further. 

“It’s like you were born for this,” Hyungwon commented at one point, when they found a moment of respite from the endless small talk. Changkyun could only smile at him in response.

Of course, things slowly began taking a turn, and by then he was almost certain Hyungwon was trying to anger Guhn on purpose, be it out of spite or for whatever other reason. It could be the reason why Hyungwon had asked him not to interfere - because he was already planning on getting under Guhn’s skin.

If Hyungwon’s plan was to get Guhn so annoyed he discarded the contract himself to be free of his antics, Changkyun wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry. It was— so very childish. Sure, it might work, but childish didn’t exactly fit Hyungwon’s style. Oh, no. Nothing was simple with Hyungwon, nothing was straightforward. If he had a plan, a larger plot was afoot.

And Changkyun knew he would only see it when Hyungwon put down the last piece of the puzzle to reveal the full picture. He had no hope of figuring it out before then.

Several people inquired about Hyungwon’s séances, if he would ‘grace them with a session’. Guhn always gave him pointed looks, little threats in the form of two angry eyes, but Hyungwon consistently declined each and every invitation to conduct a séance. He was polite about it, knew how to deflect their attention, had a way of twisting his words in a way to convince them that a séance was not a good idea, that it would only bring down the mood of the party and scare the faint of heart.

Guhn’s mood became darker and darker. The scales of his restraint finally tipped over when the host of the party posed the same inquiry.

“I was hoping you would conjure the dead tonight, as a birthday present to me,” the man said.

The slight nudge to guilt Hyungwon into doing it was not lost on Changkyun, and neither was it lost on Hyungwon himself.

How very naive of them to think Hyungwon would feel remorse for declining a service he didn’t enjoy performing to someone he didn’t care about.

Hyungwon smiled that stiff, polite smile he wore as a mask during social events. “I’m afraid I must disappoint you, sir. I am under the weather tonight, and my ability to commune with the dead is, unfortunately, compromised. Besides, I’m certain I can gift you something less morbid for your birthday than the gloomy chatter of the departed.”

“Is that so,” the man said and glanced over at Guhn. “Mr. Guhn assured me you would perform for us tonight.”

Changkyun could physically feel things were about to go south before the next words left Hyungwon’s mouth.

“Well, Mr. Guhn is not the one with the talent, I’m afraid,” Hyungwon said. There was a hint of disdain in his voice, one that was present enough that all of them noticed it. “He can’t understand how this ability works. His intentions were good, certainly, but he should not have made promises he cannot keep on behalf of someone who was not there.”

Changkyun had to bite his tongue in order not to react any other way. Now Hyungwon had gone and done it - he’d outright declared Guhn had no power over him in public, to an important man, and right in front of Guhn himself.

There was a beat of silence, Guhn and his friend struck speechless at Hyungwon’s statement. The man broke the quiet with a forced wave of loud laughter, a tactic as old as time to deflect the attention from an unpleasant topic. “Yes, yes, you are absolutely right! You know your abilities better than any of us, if you say this ability is compromised tonight, we believe you.”

Guhn said nothing to agree or disagree with that statement, merely laughed along to cover up how angry he’d become. Changkyun wished he could put himself between Guhn and Hyungwon, shield that insufferable lover of his from the wrath he’d wrought upon himself, but they were in public and Hyungwon had asked him not to interfere. So he smiled along with everyone, wishing he could communicate with Hyungwon through his mind to tell him to be careful.

“Perhaps I will be in a position to grant you a session next time,” Hyungwon said, his tone forcefully pleasant. “Tonight, I regret to say, it is simply not feasible. In fact, I fear I must go and get some fresh air as I am feeling somewhat lightheaded. If you’ll excuse me.”

Glad of the cue Hyungwon had conjured for them to seek some respite, Changkyun followed suit when Hyungwon bid his farewells with polite nods of his head and walked away towards one of the exits. Guhn, for the moment, didn’t follow them.

Changkyun didn’t ask if Hyungwon knew where he was going, quietly letting him lead the way through the crowd of boisterous attendees and into a secluded door on the other side of the wide room they had been in. It opened to a dimly lit corridor, the décor less opulent than that of the rest of the mansion - a servants’ entrance, perhaps. Hyungwon closed the door behind them and sighed deeply, leaning back on the wall as if he didn’t have enough strength to keep himself upright without something to support him. Changkyun was next to him in less than a heartbeat.

“Are you alright?” he asked in a low voice. The corridor might have been empty, but as the old saying goes, the walls have ears.

“No, I am not,” Hyungwon said, one hand coming up to his head as he grimaced with pain. “My head is killing me.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

Hyungwon opened his eyes and looked over at him, a small smile appearing on his lips despite his discomfort. “You’re already doing enough. I didn’t expect you to fit in so well tonight.”

Changkyun shrugged and ducked his head, feeling bashful under the praise. “All I’m doing is trying to act rich.”

“You  _ are _ rich, though,” Hyungwon reminded him and straightened himself up, taking one deep breath before he continued talking. “Your adaptability never ceases to surprise me. I feel that, were I to toss you into a tank of sharks, not only you would not be eaten, you’d also come out of it with fins and sniffing the air for blood.”

Changkyun chuckled at the analogy. “Just please don’t put that theory to the test. I’m not the greatest swimmer.”

“Noted.”

“That said, though, you are poking a veritable shark with a very short stick, baby,” he said, assuming a more serious tone. “I trust your judgment on this, but Guhn is one for retaliation and you’re—”

“Asking for it?” Hyungwon concluded his line of thought. Changkyun agreed with a nod. “I have it under control, Kyun. I did say the next few days will be difficult.”

“You did, but you neglected to mention you’d be the one to make them so.”

“My, it must have slipped my mind,” he deadpanned.

“You are impossible.”

“You said you trust my judgment,” Hyungwon said, “so trust it.”

“I do trust it, but—”

Before he could finish talking, the door opened again and through came Guhn, looking like a thundercloud on legs, his eyes immediately zeroing in on Hyungwon. Guhn closed the door behind him with a little more force than he should have used in a public setting, and Changkyun couldn’t properly process the situation and react fast enough to put himself between him and Hyungwon. Hyungwon’s presence of mind was stronger than his own, for he put himself in front of Changkyun instead, blocking Changkyun from interfering at the very same time Guhn grabbed Hyungwon by the jaw to keep him from turning away. Changkyun tried to reach around him, wanting to push Guhn’s hand away from Hyungwon, but Hyungwon grabbed his wrist, held it close to his body, trapping him between himself and the wall.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t defend Hyungwon, and not because he wasn’t trying - but because Hyungwon wouldn’t let him.

“What is wrong with you!?” Guhn hissed at Hyungwon, his gloved fingers pressing on Hyungwon’s face so hard Changkyun was sure he would have bruises in the morning. “You think your little acts of rebellion will get you anywhere? You work for  _ me _ . You do as  _ I _ say. You do  _ not _ embarrass me in front of my peers, and you do your damn job when I tell you to do it!”

“Let go of him!” Changkyun said from behind Hyungwon, but all he received in response was a tug on his hand to urge him to be quiet. Guhn pretended he wasn’t even there.

His heart was pounding so hard, so loud, his ears were ringing.

“What statement are you trying to make?” Guhn continued, face splotched red with rage, eyes open so wide they appeared as if they were about to fall out of their sockets. “That I can’t control you? That you’re free? You signed a contract, and I will have you behave like it or—”

“I didn’t break the contract!” Hyungwon said, his words sounding strange due to the lack of room he had to move his jaw to speak. “You can’t use it against me if I didn’t—”

Guhn yanked Hyungwon’s head forward, his grip visibly tightening around his jaw, digging into the flesh of his cheeks. “It’s not enough to steal from me, you still want to ruin my reputation!?”

“I didn’t steal from you!”

Guhn invaded Hyungwon’s personal space further. Changkyun tried to break free to push him away, to no avail. His face inches from Hyungwon’s, madness in his features, Guhn whispered, “And when he lies he speaks his native tongue.”

Finally, Hyungwon let go of Changkyun in favor of physically prying Guhn’s fingers from his face, batting his hand away once he managed to accomplish such. Changkyun took the chance to move as well, placing himself halfway in front of Hyungwon to block Guhn from any further attempts at making a grab at him.

“Yes, keep citing scripture at me.” Hyungwon all but spat the words at Guhn, venomous and spiteful. “I’m sure I’ll burst into flames eventually.”

“A smart tongue will not protect you,” Guhn said, pointing a finger at Hyungwon. “You will fall in line, or—”

“Or what?” Hyungwon cut him off and stepped forward, into Guhn’s space and out of Changkyun’s protection. “Didn’t I tell you already? Or did you think that was an empty threat?”

Guhn’s expression darkened, rage faltering to allow a glimpse of fear. Changkyun felt as if he’d been thrown off his axis with the sudden change in dynamics, the shift in control. Hyungwon, for all that he’d been literally backed against a wall, had regained his footing and, apparently, the advantage. Changkyun’s head was spinning.

“You can’t do anything against me,” Guhn said. Changkyun thought he heard desperation in his voice. “The contract says—”

“I know what the contract says,” Hyungwon said, sounding calm as if he hadn’t been threatened not ten seconds ago. The light in the corridor appeared to have grown dimmer. “If you take a moment to read it upon returning to the mansion, you will see that there is much I can do against you without breaking its terms.”

Guhn swallowed, his throat bobbing noticeably as he did. He was afraid - if Changkyun knew how to recognize one emotion, it was fear. Guhn was exuding fear from his every pore.

“Well,” Guhn said, trying to bounce back to his previous stance, trying to prove he was not going to run with his tail between his legs just because Hyungwon had threatened him with— whatever it was he threatened him with, “if you can do me harm without breaking the contract, then I can do  _ you _ harm without breaking it, also.”

“Do your worst,” Hyungwon said, simplistic, dismissive. Changkyun wanted to ask if he’d gone mad.

Guhn glared at Hyungwon for a long moment before asking, “Why go so far, why struggle so much against something  _ you _ wanted? Him?”

Changkyun glared back at Guhn when he motioned towards him with his head, wanting an excuse to join in the argument. He didn’t get his chance.

“This is not about Changkyun,” Hyungwon said. Something in his tone caused Changkyun to stop staring at Guhn and look up at him instead. “It’s about so much more.”

“So what, then? You will continue to rebel? Will you go against me at every turn?”

Hyungwon blinked and smiled, his expression placid to the untrained eye - Changkyun could see the underlying threat in his eyes, though. “You think I go against you without motive? I am only defending myself. As long as you keep your ego in check, I will be as threatening to you as a little lamb.”

Changkyun almost scoffed at the words - Hyungwon could not be innocent as a lamb even if he tried. He didn’t need to be aware of the full story behind that argument to know as much.

Guhn rolled his eyes and began moving towards the door. “If you wish to insist on this charade of yours, then leave. You have embarrassed me enough for one night.”

“Nothing would give me greater joy,” Hyungwon said sardonically. “And Charles?” The words prompted Guhn to stop and look back at him. “My native tongue is Korean, in case you were confused.”

Guhn sighed, not at all amused with the quip. “ _ Leave. _ And take your lapdog with you.”

When Guhn’s eyes fell on him, Changkyun gave him a toothy grin and very matter-of-factly ended the exchange by saying, “Woof.”

With another roll of his eyes and a tired shake of his head, Guhn finally made his exit from the corridor and back to the party, leaving Changkyun and Hyungwon behind to decompress after the tense moments they had just experienced. Changkyun released a long breath of relief as he turned to Hyungwon, eyeing him with equal amounts of exasperation and fondness.

“I have no idea what that was all about, but it seems you managed to get Guhn to make a hasty retreat.”

Hyungwon hummed and crossed his arms, watching the closed door with a pinched expression. “For the moment, at the very least.” Turning to Changkyun, he sighed and said, “More importantly, I have secured us an excuse to go home.”

Changkyun snorted as he began following Hyungwon down the corridor, again trusting him to know the way out. “That was your goal? Annoy him enough that he sent us away?”

“In part.”

“You are truly one of a kind.”

Hyungwon gave him a sunny smile, so bright in that dark place. “Thank you, love. I’m sorry you got caught in the middle, though.”

“I only wish I could have done something to defend you. The way he grabbed you—”

“I’m fine, Kyun.”

“It was hard enough to bruise!”

“Bruises fade,” Hyungwon said, as if that ended the argument. “And it won’t happen again.”

Changkyun took a deep breath to control his annoyance at Hyungwon’s lack of concern for something so serious. “You don’t want to talk about it, I see. Very well.” He followed Hyungwon through a discrete side door, one that led outside. The fresh air was a welcome reprieve from the stuffy innards of that place. “Say,” Changkyun began casually, accompanying Hyungwon around the building towards where their carriage was waiting, “your native language truly is Korean?”

Hyungwon shot him an amused glance and nodded. “It is. I was born in a small village just outside Hanseong.”

“I thought you were born here,” he said. “You have no accent.”

“I’ve lived here for a long time, is all.”

“How long?” Changkyun prodded. “Were you raised here from childhood?”

“No, I moved here as an adult.”

Curiouser and curiouser. To have lost his accent by then, Hyungwon must have moved to that country at the tail-end of his puberty, at the latest - unless he had a tutor who taught him the language from a young age, which would make sense and also have given him a headstart on the accent-losing aspect of it.

It was still a fascinating discovery.

“You speak Korean, then?” he asked, already planning to ask Hyungwon to teach him. Changkyun’s parents had spoken Korean around him when he was small, but he’d been too young to really pick up on it; it bothered him not knowing  _ his _ language. In retrospect, he should have paid more attention to his parents’ conversations.

Hyungwon hummed to confirm before doing so with words. “Mhm, I do. I speak many languages, in fact.”

Changkyun’s jaw dropped. “You do!? How didn’t I know about this?”

Hyungwon gave him a mysterious side smile. “You never asked.”

“What a cheap excuse,” he grumbled.

By then they had already reached the carriage, and after explaining to their confused coachman that Guhn had sent them away and that he would procure his own transportation back to the mansion later, they boarded and got comfortable on the narrow seat - far too narrow for two grown men, but that had never stopped them from sitting side by side.

Just when the carriage began to move was that Changkyun said, “I feel like there is so much I still don’t know about you.”

“You will learn everything there is to know about me and more,” Hyungwon said, and it sounded like a promise. It also sounded— tired.

“I won’t try to pry you for answers right now,” Changkyun said, a promise of his own. “Too much has happened for one day.”

“Indeed.”

“We should sleep in my room tonight,” he suggested. “That way there are more doors between us and Guhn, in case he’s in a vindictive mood.”

Hyungwon shot him a smile and, resting his head on Changkyun’s shoulder, said, “It sounds like a fine idea. Your room is quieter.”

Changkyun wrapped one arm around Hyungwon’s shoulders to press him closer, kissed him on the top of his head. He examined Hyungwon’s face with his gaze only, taking the opportunity that Hyungwon had closed his eyes and wouldn’t notice his concern - his skin was red in the places where Guhn had dug his fingers in, mainly where his thumb had been, but that was all that had been left behind to betray what happened. It grated at him, the feeling of being powerless even as he’d been there to witness it all; he couldn’t do anything— no, was  _ not allowed _ to do anything. That made it all even worse.

Hyungwon could be well-versed in the art of taking care of Changkyun, but he was not very concerned about his own safety - after that night, Changkyun was certain of it. If he wanted Hyungwon to be safe, then he would have to take matters into his own hands.

For the time being, though, he allowed himself to relax. They were alone inside the carriage, going home after a night that felt far longer than it had been, and he just didn’t have it in him to plot and scheme all the ways he could keep Guhn and his temper in check.

After a moment of silence, during which he tried to refocus his thoughts, he quietly asked the question he’d been meaning to ask since earlier that night.

“ _ Are _ you the one moving Guhn’s money?”

The lack of reply was an answer in itself.

He dared not ask why.

◦ ◦ ◦

In retrospect, Kihyun should have prepared for this. He wished he had prepared for this.

Instead, he had again wasted time and energy on something that was not the priority.  _ The _ priority - Hoseok. Hoseok was the priority, not his feeble attempts at protecting his place in their relationship. He’d been selfish, blinded by greed, by fear, the fear of being alone, and he was the only one to blame.

It happened so fast it made his head spin. On one day, Hoseok was fine, smiling his bright smile and conversing with them as he always did. The next day, the smile was gone, his voice wouldn’t come out. On the third day, came a fever unlike any fever Kihyun had ever seen, a fever that was not yet gone by the fourth day. It began to fade, as Lady Luck willed, on the fifth day. Hoseok was weak, could barely lift his head to eat the soup Hyunwoo fed him - Hyunwoo, because Kihyun was not allowed inside the room.

And perhaps that was the worse part of it all - he was not allowed to  _ be _ there. He couldn’t see Hoseok, couldn’t comfort him, couldn’t do anything to help but pace the rest of their small apartment and pray. He could only hear the haunting sounds that came from within, the wheezing, the coughing, the desperate gasps for air, the whimpering. Whenever Hyunwoo would come out of the room, always closing the door behind him before Kihyun could see inside, he appeared less hopeful, more exhausted, older.

And there was nothing Kihyun could do.

He tried to be strong, to keep himself positive, to cling to hope as small as it was - the prediction was that Hoseok had three to five months, and it hadn’t even been one entire month since Kihyun’s meeting with Hyungwon. He had no reason to think Hyungwon was lying, despite the logical chance that he was wrong; hope was hope, no matter the source.

Maybe, once upon a time, he would have been able to hang on to it - now, with Death pounding on their door, Kihyun had no more strength to keep him from breaking.

And break he did.

It was not his heart that was breaking, but his very soul. Everything he had fought for, worked for,  _ lived _ for was falling apart, disintegrating before his eyes.

Late at night, on the sixth day, hidden away in a dark corner of their kitchen, as far away from the bedroom as the limited space of the apartment allowed in order to keep Hyunwoo and Hoseok from hearing, he crouched down and wept. Hands pressed over his mouth to keep the sound contained, he sobbed and wailed, all the pain he’d tried to keep inside him ever since they learned of Hoseok’s condition pouring out of him in a cascade of tears he feared would never end.

They hadn’t even had the chance to take Hoseok to a walk on the docks like he promised. They hadn’t taken the ship out to sea for the day. They hadn’t done so much, and Hoseok was so  _ young _ — 

The time had finally come to make a decision. He’d pushed it off, tried to convince himself it was not the only solution, that he could find a better alternative, something that would keep his dignity and his morals intact, but he’d always known, in his heart of hearts, that there was only one choice.

And what finally convinced him was, ironically, one of the many tales in his book of Greek mythology.

The story of a man so in love he braved the Underworld to bring his beloved back from the land of the dead. An impossible feat, firstly because no mortal could enter that place, and secondly because no departed soul could ever leave. Somehow, though, the man convinced the lord of that place, the God of the Underworld himself, to give him a chance - a chance that came in the form of a test. He was free to walk out of the Underworld with his beloved, under the condition that he could not turn around to make sure she was following. He had to trust she was there until the moment they were out of that place and back on the surface, in the land of the living, again. If he looked behind to see if she was coming, then she would be dragged back to the Underworld and he would never see her again.

The young man accepted that offer, and confidently began his walk back to the surface, knowing that his love was right behind him. However, the longer he walked the treacherous, somber path of the Underworld, the more he was plagued with doubt. Had the god tricked him? Was his love really coming? And if she was, was she there? She didn’t fall behind? Didn’t get lost in the dark or injured with the sharp rocks and steep hills?

He kept walking, at the end of his tether, but when he glimpsed the exit, the literal light at the end of that tunnel, his resolve finally broke. He turned around, only to catch one last glimpse of the woman he loved before she was dragged back to the land of the dead, never to be seen again.

Trust. It was all about trust. About faith.

If the man in the tale had trusted himself, his beloved, and the God of the Underworld, he would have left that place to enjoy his second chance at happiness. If only he hadn’t turned around, if his faith had been stronger, he would have had everything.

Kihyun would not make the same mistake.

At the break of dawn, when the apartment was still silent as his lovers slept behind the closed doors of their room, Kihyun rose from where he’d been curled up on the ground, eyelids sore and swollen from the night spent weeping. He slipped on his jacket and his shoes, and quietly left the apartment with a destination in mind - he would send a message to Hyungwon, not to ask for an audience, but to inform him he would be paying him a visit the next day.

If faith was the only thing that could save Hoseok and Hyunwoo, then Kihyun would place his faith in Hyungwon. For better or for worse. 

He would not look back.

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> three more to go~
> 
> thanks for reading!♡


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please read the end notes for a notice about the next updates!
> 
> enjoy!♡

◦

To say things at the mansion had been tense would be an understatement.

Where they had once enjoyed relative lenience from Guhn’s scrutiny, now it felt like he was always watching. Hyungwon, in particular, could not take two steps without Guhn breathing down his neck, asking where he was going, what he was doing, what his plans were for the day. Hyungwon easily dismissed his concerns, looking unbothered on the outside - in private, though, Hyungwon’s frazzled nerves were apparent, be it in the way he carried himself, shoulders slumped and head low, or how quiet he’d been. Yes, he was quiet on a regular basis, but now the quiet came with a set of furrowed brows and anxious bottom-lip biting.

The nights weren’t any easier. Their sleeping habits were already not the greatest before, but now there was a different reason why they weren’t getting much sleep. Changkyun was still having nightmares, for one, and when he wasn’t thrashing about with fear, he was awake in their dark chambers, quiet and anxious, listening for any out-of-place noise that betrayed activity near their room. Hyungwon was having some trouble falling asleep too, and while he’d had bouts of insomnia before, this felt different. They slept in Changkyun’s room more often than not lately, and even that didn’t help much.

Changkyun, while also a victim of Guhn’s unwanted attention, was not watched as closely, although he had the most distinct impression he was being followed any time he went to town to scout the locations of Hyungwon’s scheduled séances - séances which now happened every single night, sometimes multiple times. Hyungwon was exhausted, his headaches getting worse each passing day. It was like Guhn was trying to work him to the ground, only so Hyungwon would be too tired to scheme against him.

It didn’t seem like Guhn’s master plan was working, though; whatever Hyungwon was doing, it was still going on in the background, under wraps in such a way not even Changkyun had figured it out yet. Hyungwon hadn’t offered the answers, and Changkyun was smart enough not to ask any questions.

He trusted Hyungwon. Whatever he was doing, legal or not, Changkyun was confident it was for their benefit - and he would stand by him, for better or worse.

What he _ did _ notice was that the mansion was becoming emptier and emptier. He opened his eyes to it once he learned that Guhn had dismissed his valet and one of the footmen, and now— now it was clear to him that there was something going on with the servants.

It was like they were disappearing.

There were over twenty servants when Changkyun first moved in. One by one, that number dropped. Guhn’s valet and the footman were just the first two rocks to fall on a landslide - their butler was next, then one of the housemaids. The dairymaid was gone, as were the two gardeners, and one of the laundry maids. That morning, the housekeeper didn’t show up for work - the most punctual, rule-following, strict woman Changkyun had ever met.

He did ask Hyungwon about the servants. His response was a shrug and a simplistic “They resigned.”

Resigned for what reason, though?

And now the entire servants’ structure was gone because the butler and the housekeeper were the ones who would oversee everything, make sure each servant was doing what they were supposed to be doing, the ones who kept the mansion’s routine from falling apart. While there were still enough servants around to ensure their every need was seen to, the lack of structure was beginning to show.

The mansion was quiet that morning, unusually still, but not in a way that made Changkyun apprehensive. It was charged, but also not. Like— like the calm before a storm. Describing it wasn’t easy, as it wasn’t easy to describe much of what went on inside those halls - this time, he blamed his lack of concern on Hyungwon. He didn’t seem to be worried, thus, Changkyun wasn’t worried.

They were in the music room, lounging on a long couch, Changkyun on one side and Hyungwon on the other, legs tangled in the middle, and it felt comfortable. Easy. Guhn had left early to attend another meeting with his accountant about his finances and, in his absence, it was quite simple to lean back and relax for a change, without worrying about Guhn sticking his pointy nose in their private time. Changkyun had his notepad open on the arm of the couch, writing down a new idea he had for Hyungwon’s séances; it was a plan he’d been tossing around his mind for a while, one he wanted to present to Hyungwon once he had come up with all the details, the proof it would be a worthy investment - to perform his séances at a fixed venue, instead of doing visits. One room they could modify and enhance to fit their needs, where they could hide wires and cables and all sorts of trickery, or even a space they could rent in the city to make it more accessible for their patrons. Other mediums did it all the time, from what Changkyun had learned, and Hyungwon was famous enough in spiritualist circles to allow himself that sort of comfort, to stay in one place and let the masses come to him. Changkyun was making crude sketches that morning of a possible mechanism to add to a normal table and make it look as if it could levitate.

Meanwhile, Hyungwon had his journal on the couch in front of him, but not to write on - he was using the smooth leather cover as a makeshift table for his tarot cards.

There was something almost obsessive in the way Hyungwon was handling the cards - he would shuffle them for a while, then drop three cards on top of the journal, stare at them with a focused expression for several seconds, to then scoop them up and repeat the entire process again and again and again.

When he saw him repeat the same action for the thousandth time, Changkyun brought a hand to Hyungwon’s leg, which was wedged between his body and the back of the couch, and gave it a gentle squeeze to get his attention. Once Hyungwon looked up, he asked, “What’s wrong, angel? Are the cards not agreeing with you?”

“On the contrary,” Hyungwon said. “They are telling me exactly what I was hoping they would say.”

He arched an eyebrow, feeling more lost than before, more concerned than before. “Why do you keep reading them, then?”

“It’s—” Hyungwon began but trailed off, his expression scrunching up as he thought of how to explain his thoughts with words - he looked so cute like that. “I just want to make sure I’m not wrong. I don’t want to build expectations and prepare for something, only to be disappointed in the end.”

Changkyun hummed, considering the words for a moment, before asking, “Does it have to do with the contract?”

Hyungwon gave him a mysterious look and a little side smile. “Not quite.”

“Oh?” Changkyun perked up with interest. “If not the contract, what then?”

“You would be wrong, my little mouse, to assume Guhn’s existence is important enough to warrant such effort on my part only to be rid of him,” Hyungwon said, looking down at his cards again. “I have worthier goals in mind.”

Changkyun waited for a moment, expecting Hyungwon to elaborate, which, in hindsight, was very naive of him. When he didn’t speak for a few seconds, Changkyun tried to give him some incentive by saying, “Such as?”

Hyungwon sighed wistfully as he turned another card. “Completion.”

So Hyungwon was in a secretive mood. Great.

“Completion of what?” he asked, like an idiot.

Hyungwon didn’t answer, and from his demeanor alone Changkyun knew he was not going to get a reply. He rolled his eyes at Hyungwon, who wasn’t looking at him but still had a somewhat amused expression on his face, as if teasing Changkyun’s curiosity was his favorite source of entertainment - it probably was.

“Why do I love you, you’re the most infuriating person in the world,” Changkyun said without any bite to his words, to which Hyungwon chuckled softly as he dropped another card atop his journal.

When he spoke, his voice had assumed a tone that was almost melancholic. “I ask myself that very question every single day.”

Changkyun frowned, alarmed with the sudden change in Hyungwon’s mood. “Hyungwon—”

“I’m alright,” Hyungwon was quick to say. He dropped a third card next to the others and stared at them for a moment before he gathered them up and began shuffling the deck again. “Love is not something one can rationalize, and I never once doubted your love for me. I do wonder, though, what is it that pulled you in and, most of all, what is it that compels you to stay.” His movements slowed down as he spoke, his gaze focused on a random point of the carpet, apparently drifting off into his own thoughts as he continued to shuffle the cards in almost mechanical motions. “Why would you go so far for my sake...”

“Won?” Changkyun called, careful, and Hyungwon blinked and turned to face him, looking puzzled as if he’d just awoken from a trance. “What are you talking about?”

Hyungwon smiled and shook his head. His eyes still held some sadness, but he seemed to have gotten a grip on himself. “It’s nothing, I’m sorry. Just thinking out loud.”

“What did you mean, ‘why would you go so far’? Have I done something or—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hyungwon cut him off gently. “My mind is scattered today, pay me no mind.”

“If something is bothering you, I would like to hear it,” Changkyun said earnestly, looking at Hyungwon with what he hoped was a pleading expression and not a desperate one. It wouldn’t do for him to seem too eager; Hyungwon might be even less inclined to share his thoughts with him if he did. “Is it about the future? Have you predicted something about me? About us?”

“No, no,” Hyungwon replied with a shake of his head. “I am simply tired and talking nonsense.”

Changkyun took a deep breath, tried to convince himself Hyungwon was telling the truth even if he could see there was much more to it, something Hyungwon was keeping to himself for whatever reasons. He hated it; he hated it when Hyungwon kept secrets, no matter how much he trusted that he would tell him everything someday.

“I wish I could read your thoughts, see into your mind,” Changkyun declared with a sigh and looked back down to his notes, believing the conversation to be over.

“You can, if you focus hard enough.”

Changkyun froze for a split second and turned to face him, confused. Hyungwon was looking down at the deck of cards in his hands, that sadness that had been there just ten seconds ago nowhere to be seen. He looked so relaxed, so calm, that Changkyun believed for a moment he’d imagined he had just spoken.

To make sure his ears weren’t playing tricks on him, he said, “Pardon?”

“You can do a lot more than you think you can,” Hyungwon said and shot him a brief glance from the corners of his eyes. “You just haven’t realized it yet.”

Changkyun opened his mouth and then closed it again, unsure of what to make of Hyungwon’s words. Was he teasing him or was he serious? He couldn’t tell.

“You— are you really telling me I can read your mind if I ‘focus hard enough’?”

“Mhm, I am.” He dropped a card on top of the journal. He was being serious, then. “You can read my emotions already. You can tell when I'm near. Why is it so strange to think you can see into my mind as well?”

“It’s not like any of those things are extraordinary abilities. I just know you very well, enough to make educated guesses,” Changkyun said. Hyungwon raised his head to stare directly at him, his expression impossible to decipher.

“Are you sure?”

Changkyun blinked, baffled at the question thrown at him, but just as he opened his mouth to ask for Hyungwon to clarify, the remaining footman appeared in the doorway and cleared his throat, catching their attention.

“Sir, a message arrived for you.”

Hyungwon visibly perked up and stood from the couch, leaving his cards where he’d been sitting without much care in favor of approaching the footman. “Finally, took him long enough.”

Changkyun frowned, both confused and curious, craning his neck to try and see what Hyungwon was doing. The footman handed him a folded piece of paper, which Hyungwon quickly opened so he could read it, his motions looking almost impatient. Whatever was written in that little square of paper, it made Hyungwon smile.

“Hold the courier for me, please,” he said to the footman, who nodded and left to do as Hyungwon requested. He then hurried back to the couch to pick up his journal and, from it, he ripped a piece of the very last page before he approached Changkyun. “Can I borrow your pen for a second?”

“Sure…?” Changkyun replied, entirely dumbfounded at how fast Hyungwon was moving, with so much purpose and energy after looking half-asleep thirty seconds prior.

“Thank you, love,” Hyungwon chirped as he plucked the pen from Changkyun’s hand and leaned over the side table by the couch to write down his reply to whatever message he’d received.

Changkyun didn’t even try to hide he was trying to see what Hyungwon was writing, downright getting on his knees to raise his body to read it. Hyungwon didn’t seem to mind, simply scribbling down his note without trying to cover it up.

> ‘_ No need to wait until tomorrow. _
> 
> _ I’ll be expecting you this afternoon, at your earliest convenience. _
> 
> _ \- H.’ _

Changkyun only became more confused, but Hyungwon was already moving again before he could formulate his question. “I’ll be right back.”

Dropping his pen - and, luckily for Changkyun, the note he’d received - Hyungwon left the music room to give the courier his message to— whoever it was. Changkyun was left behind dazed, but his curiosity was fast to win over his confusion and he swiftly picked up the note Hyungwon had received to read its contents. The handwriting was neat, exponentially more legible and dainty than Hyungwon’s - which was not that hard to accomplish, judging from how atrocious Hyungwon’s penmanship was.

> ‘_ I have decided to accept your proposal. I’ll be over tomorrow to discuss terms. _
> 
> _ \- K.’ _

His first question was, who the hell is ‘K’? The second, what proposal? Jealousy spiked in his chest as he lowered himself back on the couch to his previous position, brows hitched and lips jutting out in a childish pout. Rationally, he knew there was no reason to worry - he and Hyungwon might as well be a single organism considering the sheer amount of time they spent together. Hyungwon wouldn’t have the time or opportunity to orchestrate an affair, not unless he was capable of being in two places at the same time.

It did grate at him, though, the way Hyungwon lit up just now, when the message arrived. When was the last time he’d seen him so excited about something, if ever? Changkyun wanted to be the one to bring out such happiness in him, not— whoever that ‘K’ was.

He took a deep breath, tried to focus on the telltale fact that Hyungwon didn’t try to hide the messages from him. If he was doing something he was not supposed to do, he would have kept Changkyun from seeing what he wrote, would not have so carelessly left the note he’d received behind. Hyungwon had ample opportunity to discourage him from reading what he was writing, and he didn’t.

He had nothing to worry about. Hyungwon was not going behind his back about it, and if he asked him, he was certain Hyungwon would tell him about ‘K’ and this proposal.

Changkyun willed himself to come down from his jealousy, back to the more familiar waters of curiosity and quiet exasperation for constantly being kept wondering. It was alright - he was used to it and still held onto the hope that Hyungwon would explain everything when the right time came.

He shifted his attention to the card that Hyungwon had dropped before he left, a chill running down his spine when he saw the all too familiar image depicted there, the neat cursive at the bottom - Death.

_ They are telling me exactly what I was hoping they would say. _

He still remembered what Hyungwon had told him about that card - endings and new beginnings; change; loss. He didn’t know which of those interpretations was the correct one, as he didn’t know the context of Hyungwon’s inquiries. Not knowing what to make of it made him anxious.

He lowered his gaze to the journal instead, and that was a much better item to focus on; he’d read it before, more than once, and would do so again and again whenever Hyungwon was busy somewhere else; he respected Hyungwon’s wish to only read it when he wasn’t in the vicinity, which was beneficial for both of them. Reading Hyungwon’s journal in front of the man himself was a sure way to make Changkyun feel self-conscious about his reactions, no matter how positive they were.

Hyungwon’s poetry was— unusual, much like Hyungwon himself was unusual. He did orbit around certain themes - death and mortality, the ephemerality of life, the corruption of the soul, love lost and found. But, most of all, his poems spoke of… loneliness. Of being alone.

It was not professional poetry in any way. It didn’t have a clear structure, oftentimes it didn’t even rhyme, but Hyungwon’s words had the tendency to hit him in the most tender spots of his heart. It could be because he had a tender spot for Hyungwon and anything related to him would have a way of making him feel more strongly than he should, but— no, that wasn’t it.

Hyungwon’s poetry was just so… _ raw. _ So honest. Changkyun felt as if he could relate to the feelings expressed in those poems, whether he had experienced them or not, and that was the factor that made it all so lovely. Hyungwon could make him _ feel _ the words.

He never told him that. Maybe he should.

He was lost in thought, debating on whether or not to take the journal and read it again, when Hyungwon reappeared, all smiles and sunshine. Changkyun glanced at him with narrowed eyes before turning away, trying to make his displeasure clear through actions alone, but Hyungwon either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He approached him with a noticeable spring to his step and, to Changkyun’s surprise, plopped down on his lap as if they weren’t inside an open room where someone might walk in on them.

“Hyungwon!” he exclaimed, startled. Hyungwon only giggled at his reaction. “What are you doing, you—”

“It’s fine,” Hyungwon said and pressed a long kiss to his lips. That worked to get him to stop struggling. For the moment. “Nobody will come in.”

“What’s gotten into you today?” Changkyun half asked, half whined. “Your mood is changing like the weather.”

“I’m tired and my mind is scattered, I told you,” Hyungwon said, kissing him repeatedly. “I should remain in a good mood for the better part of the day, though.”

“Is this about ‘K’?”

Hyungwon raised a brow at him and smirked, obviously aiming to tease him. “Was that jealousy I just heard?”

Changkyun’s expression turned cloudy. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

Hyungwon, damn him, giggled again. “Have I ever told you how adorable you look when you’re jealous?” The rhetorical question was punctuated with a noisy kiss to his cheek, which only made Changkyun’s expression darken. Hyungwon didn’t seem to mind. “But you have no reason to be.”

Changkyun looked up at Hyungwon dubiously for a second before saying, “Is that so?”

Hyungwon hummed and nodded in response. “I mentioned to you once that I have an acquaintance whose lovers are ill. ‘K’ is this acquaintance - his name is Kihyun.”

“...oh.” Changkyun shifted under Hyungwon’s - very light - weight and cleared his throat, feeling like the proverbial village idiot. “I see.”

“I’m happy because I was beginning to worry he wouldn’t accept my help,” Hyungwon continued his explanation. “One of his lovers is getting sicker by the day, and Kihyun certainly took his time to make a decision. It’s not too late for his lover yet, however - I can still help.”

Changkyun shook his head and chuckled mirthlessly to himself. “God, I am an idiot.” He pressed a long kiss to Hyungwon’s lips before looking up at him with a smitten little smile. “And you are truly an angel.”

Hyungwon gave him an unconvinced look. “You are not an idiot and I am not an angel.”

“It’s hard to agree with you when I’m acting like a jealous fool while you’re only being kind to someone else.”

“And the fault is mine for not explaining it to you sooner,” Hyungwon said matter-of-factly and pressed one last kiss to Changkyun’s cheek before standing up again. “I should get rid of this before Guhn comes home and starts thinking there is a larger plot afoot.” He walked over to the side table to take the message he received from K - from Kihyun.

Changkyun leaned back on the couch, watching Hyungwon move towards the unlit fireplace directly in front of them, obviously aiming to set the note on fire.

“There _ is _ a larger plot afoot, though, isn’t there?”

Hyungwon didn’t look back at him, focused on striking a match to light Kihyun’s message aflame. “Why ask questions to which you already know the answers?”

“I know nothing of anything lately,” Changkyun lamented as dramatically as could be, affected sigh and everything.

Hyungwon glanced over his shoulder at him for a second, looking quite amused, before turning to his task again. “Will you stay home today?” he asked as he tossed the flaming piece of paper into the fireplace, amongst the old ashes and embers. “I can introduce you to Kihyun - he is an importer, you see. Chocolate, tea, silks, coffee, firearms, spirits, he sells it all.”

“Chocolate and spirits, huh?” Changkyun said idly, more focused on Hyungwon’s slender frame and how he leaned graciously on the mantle with one hand, head bowed watching the flames consume the message. Lovely. “Tempting as it is, I have already made plans to visit Jooheon.”

“Do send him my regards, then,” Hyungwon said, shooting Changkyun a gentle smile from where he stood.

“No regards for Minhyuk?” Changkyun asked in a teasing tone. Hyungwon scoffed and said nothing else.

Changkyun only laughed at Hyungwon’s reaction and turned his attention to his notes again. After all the intense emotions he’d experienced the past ten minutes, now all he felt was silly. How stupid of him to think for a second that Hyungwon was being untrue. How stupid of him to be jealous. Hyungwon loved him - _ him. _He loved him and he had never done anything to make Changkyun think otherwise, so why—

_ What about the mystery woman, the scorpion necklace? _

No, not today.

He shook his head and sighed, allowing all his noxious emotions to leave his body with that exhale. He didn’t have to worry, not about that, at least - there was still that strange ordeal with the servants, with Guhn’s wrath, with the damned contract. Those were worthier issues to concern himself with, but not right now; for the time being, he just wanted to enjoy Hyungwon and his good mood. Who knows how long that would last.

◦ ◦ ◦

“Minhyuk— Minhyuk, stop, Changkyun will be here any minute!”

“I’m not doing anything,” Minhyuk replied, continuing his onslaught of kisses unperturbed - he couldn’t help it, Jooheon’s cheeks were just that kissable. “Besides, I bet Changkyun’s seen his share of perversion living with that demon boyfriend of his, nothing we’re doing will be strange to him.”

Jooheon grimaced. “I don’t want to think about— that.”

He giggled and pressed another kiss to Jooheon’s cheek. “Sorry, honey,” he singsonged.

Minhyuk didn’t leave his spot, however, and neither did he stop kissing Jooheon - it’s not like Jooheon could escape anyway, not with Minhyuk’s legs thrown over his lap and his arms wrapped around his body. The couch was far too small for them to be sitting like that, but the lack of space only added to the greatness of that moment, gave him a plausible reason to be as close to Jooheon as physically possible.

He couldn’t remember when was the last time in his life he had felt as light as he did at that moment. It had only been a week since they had made their relationship official, but Minhyuk already knew that this was it - Jooheon was his endgame.

No more playing musical beds, no more chasing physical pleasure to fill the void in his heart, no more lying to himself saying that sleeping around made him feel less lonely. He had closed his eyes to the hollow feeling his conquests left behind for years, and now with Jooheon— he didn’t feel hollow. Not anymore. He felt full, full of love, and full of happiness, and full of a feeling that he couldn’t quite put into words, something he hadn’t felt before but that felt a lot like… like hope. Or— no, not _ hope _ , not exactly, but a more certain version of it. It was a feeling that told him _ things will be better from now on _.

And, most of all, he didn’t have to keep up pretenses with Jooheon, didn’t have to save face. He could just— _ be _. He didn’t feel the need to constantly impress Jooheon, never felt as if he should fight to keep his attention, his focus. Jooheon was honest about his feelings, enough that Minhyuk didn’t have to guess or read into his every little action to be sure he truly liked him.

He did. He really did, for reasons Minhyuk was yet unable to fathom, but he _ did _.

Just thinking about it made a small wave of giggles burst out of him.

And as if to prove the point Minhyuk constantly made to himself every single day, Jooheon didn’t look at him weird, didn’t judge - he laughed along, as if Minhyuk’s giddiness was contagious.

Yes. This was it. This was exactly what he’d been missing all his life.

Not even staying in this city felt odd anymore - he didn’t _ like _ this city, he’d been to several that were much better, more fun than this one, but the place didn’t matter as much anymore, not as long as he had purpose. And he had purpose, a very worthy one - to be happy. To make Jooheon happy. To work towards building their lives, their future, together.

Luckily for him, Jooheon was on the same page.

They had both been searching high and low for jobs that past week - or, at least, Jooheon had. Minhyuk gave up on looking for work when he remembered he already had something he was good at.

He began setting up a small stall at a different location each day - testing the waters to choose a more permanent spot - and offering fortune-telling to passersby. He was good at it and people loved getting their fortunes read, so why not capitalize on it? He even still had his costume from the circus and wore it just to catch the eyes of the masses.

Jooheon, on the other hand, had his mind and heart set on finding apprenticeship with a baker. That was a dream both Minhyuk himself and Changkyun supported, and while Minhyuk couldn’t do much besides offering Jooheon moral encouragement, Changkyun had promised him he would cover the cost if needed.

Now _ that _ was a worthy investment for all that money Changkyun was getting from his vampire boyfriend. Ghost boyfriend? Ghoul boyfriend? Eh, he would figure out the best-suited evil entity of folklore to refer to Hyungwon eventually.

The point is, they were working towards a better future for themselves, and they were doing it together. It was funny when he thought about it; he’d been afraid of commitment, of settling down for so long and now that it was finally happening he only felt a healthy amount of trepidation. He wasn’t scared - he was nervous, as one often is about the future, but his heart was at ease. For the first time, he didn’t want to run. Didn’t need to run.

He trailed his smooches from Jooheon’s cheek to his lips, pressed a long, loving kiss to them, and he was so full of happiness, filled to the brim and overflowing with it, that he didn’t even realize he was speaking out loud what was supposed to be just a thought.

“I love you.”

Jooheon went still in his arms for a moment before blinking up at him with eyes wide, lips parted in a silent gasp. Minhyuk’s stomach sank at the realization of what he’d said and he quickly shook his head and waved his hands in front of himself, as if telling Jooheon not to freak out - in retrospect, though, he was probably freaking him out even more by acting like a lunatic.

“N-no, honey, it’s not— you don’t have to say it back!” he said, a bit on the louder side. He was not going to retract his statement, because it was the truth - he’d been working on it lately, telling the truth and sticking to it, and saying he loved Jooheon was the bare naked truth. He did love him.

The problem was, breaking out the ‘I love you’ so soon into their relationship was probably not the best move.

Yes, he’d known Jooheon for months, had been around him, getting to know him, for quite a while and it was not far-fetched to call his feelings for him ‘love’. It was just too soon to say it.

Alas, his big mouth had gone ahead and screwed him over yet again.

“I—” Jooheon stammered, looking up at him like a lost puppy, his eyes bright and unreadable.

Minhyuk forced himself to smile and gloss over the panic swelling in his chest. “It’s alright, you really don’t have to say it back, I— it slipped out, I wasn’t planning on saying it and—”

“So you didn’t mean it?”

Jooheon’s question caused him to stop short and immediately shake his head negatively.

“No! I mean, yes! Wait, what I meant is, yes, I did mean it,” he stumbled over his words, his cheeks so hot they might as well be on fire, “but I wasn’t planning on saying it because it’s so soon and I don’t want to freak you out and now you’re freaking out and I—”

“Minhyuk, stop,” Jooheon said, holding his hands so he would stop flailing them around. “I’m not freaking out.”

Minhyuk swallowed hard and nodded jerkily. “Alright.”

“I’m just— surprised,” he said, then pulled Minhyuk closer from where he’d leaned away during his panic. “You don’t have to feel bad for saying it.”

Minhyuk took a deep breath and eased himself into Jooheon’s space, his face fitting in the crook of his neck as if it belonged there. Jooheon smelled so nice. Sweet. Like— fruit. Apples. He wasn’t sure how he always managed to smell like fruit when he rarely ever ate fruit (or vegetables in general), but there it was - apples.

“I wasn’t expecting to say it, it just— came out,” Minhyuk said, and it wasn’t an excuse, no matter how much it sounded like one.

“I wasn’t expecting to hear it,” Jooheon said. He didn’t sound angry or put off, so that was a relief.

“I’ll be more careful from now on.”

“Don’t.”

Minhyuk pulled away so he could stare at Jooheon, at the same time Jooheon turned to stare at him. They were caught like that, gazing at each other, tense in ways Minhyuk couldn’t begin to explain. There was something charged in the space between them, buzzing and fizzling and frail as a bubble of soap, ready to pop at any moment. Seconds ticked by. Minhyuk only noticed he’d been holding his breath when he started becoming lightheaded.

Jooheon moved, then, just a little jerk of his head, and licked his lips before opening his mouth as if intending to say something. Whatever he’d been planning to say would forever remain a mystery, for they heard the telltale jiggle of keys and the front door being opened.

“Knock, knock, commoners!” came Changkyun’s voice through the crack before the door was completely open. “I’ve come bearing gifts!”

Changkyun entered the apartment and kicked the door shut behind him before he turned and stopped dead in his tracks, looking from Jooheon to Minhyuk with a slow-spreading smirk on his face.

“Did I interrupt something, lovebirds?”

“N-no!” Jooheon was quick to shout. “We didn’t— we haven’t—!”

Minhyuk gave Jooheon a soft poke on the tummy to stop him from saying another word - they didn’t need Changkyun to know they hadn’t been intimate yet. It wasn’t any concern of his, and it was also not something Minhyuk wanted to discuss; he was being good, didn’t and wouldn’t force Jooheon to take a step he was not comfortable taking, but he saw Jooheon’s refusal for exactly what it was - a test. Jooheon was afraid of being just another one, thus not allowing their interactions to go beyond kissing was a way to ensure Minhyuk wouldn’t lose interest after sleeping with him.

Jooheon hadn’t specifically said so out loud, but— Minhyuk knew. It wasn’t hard to figure it out.

“Just because you and your vampire boyfriend are like two bunnies in heat does not mean that we are the same,” Minhyuk said, chin tipped up arrogantly.

Changkyun snorted as he padded deeper inside the apartment, stopping at the kitchen to leave the large paper bag he had in his arms before joining them in the living room.

“Won is not a vampire. I would know.”

Minhyuk squinted at him. “Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely,” Changkyun said, dropping onto the old armchair next to the couch. With a shit-eating grin, he added, “I’m the one who bites.”

“Ew,” said Jooheon.

“But we all know already that he sucks,” Minhyuk tossed back. Jooheon grimaced further.

“Oh, yes. Yes, he does,” confirmed Changkyun with an expression Minhyuk could only define as ‘lecherous’. 

Minhyuk only rolled his eyes. Those types of interactions always got tiring very fast.

Changkyun snickered. “You did bring it up,” he said as he leaned back on the chair. Minhyuk noticed the dark circles around his eyes, how pale he looked, almost sickly so. It gave him a strange feeling of— eerie. Changkyun looked eerie. “So… you two look cozy.”

Minhyuk scrambled to get his legs off of Jooheon and turned so he was sitting on the couch like a normal person. Jooheon was staring at him, looking all sorts of amused. He made sure to ignore it - the heat pooling at the tip of his ears was enough embarrassment already.

“Yes, we _ were _ very cozy, thank you,” Minhyuk said, trying to sound dignified. If he managed to do so or not didn’t matter, because Jooheon negated his attempt by snorting out loud at his words. Changkyun just laughed.

“Relax, I’m not judging,” he said, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. “Jooheon saw me being sugary with Hyungwon when he visited me last time, this is nothing.”

“It _ was _ a very sugary sight, I agree,” Jooheon confirmed.

“Besides,” Changkyun continued, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “I’m happy for you. Both of you.”

All the defensiveness bled out of Minhyuk at the earnest look on Changkyun’s face and he couldn’t help but smile at him, sheepish, as he leaned against Jooheon to rest his head on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Changkyun,” he said.

“No need to thank me, I’m just being honest,” Changkyun said, looking from Minhyuk to Jooheon and back to Minhyuk. “God knows how Jooheon was in need of someone to pamper him like the baby he is.”

“Hey!” Jooheon protested. Both Changkyun and Minhyuk chortled.

“I’m doing my very best at pampering him, you can be sure of that,” Minhyuk said.

“Can you two stop talking about me as if I’m not here!?”

“No,” said both Minhyuk and Changkyun, to Jooheon’s chagrin. They laughed again.

“Fine,” Jooheon said, gently disentangling himself from Minhyuk so he could get up. “I’ll make us some tea and while I do that you two can keep gossiping like two old nursemaids at the park, is that good?”

“Ah, I’ve brought some pastries!” Changkyun said. “Mrs. Kim insisted, she asked me to give you her warmest regards. Hyungwon sends his regards as well, but only to you - he didn’t want to send any regards to Minhyuk.”

Minhyuk let out an indignant squawk at that. “I don’t want his regards anyway! He can stuff his regards right up his coal mine.”

Changkyun openly cackled at that. Jooheon merely sighed and shook his head before making his way to the kitchen.

Minhyuk watched him go for a moment, anxiety clawing its way back up from where he’d managed to keep it buried for the last few days. He looked at Changkyun and motioned with his head for him to come sit next to him on the couch. Changkyun frowned, confused, but did as he asked and got up from the armchair to take a seat next to him.

“What—”

Minhyuk was quick to bring his index finger up in front of his lips, the universal sign of ‘be quiet’, and Changkyun closed his mouth again without finishing his question.

“There’s something I need to ask you,” Minhyuk said, keeping his voice low.

Changkyun stared at him for a moment with suspicion in his eyes before saying, “If you want me to give you dirt on Hyungwon—”

“No, it’s not about him,” Minhyuk was quick to say. On second thought, he asked, “Actually, what’s his surname? For curiosity’s sake.”

Changkyun sighed and said, “Chae. His surname is Chae.”

“Oh, alright. Chae. Was he born here or—”

“He wasn’t, he told me he was born near Hanseong, now can you just tell me what you originally planned on asking or will this just be a quiz about Hyungwon?”

“Oh, he’s _ actually _from there? I thought he was like us, you know, parents fresh out of the boat and—”

“Minhyuk.”

“Fine!” His attempt at buying himself time before having to broach the uncomfortable subject that had been churning in his mind for the past week obviously a failure, Minhyuk decided to just go for it. He glanced over at the kitchen to make sure Jooheon was busy, listening for sounds of paper rustling and footsteps that betrayed activity, before he turned to face Changkyun again and asked in a whisper, “What do you know about Guhn?”

Changkyun’s brows hitched with utter bemusement. “Guhn? I— I can’t say I know much.” He shifted where he sat, be it for being uncomfortable at the topic or for being caught off guard by it. It was likely a combination of both. “He’s a vicious, greedy, hateful shade of a man, that’s for certain. Why do you ask?”

Minhyuk chewed on his lips for a moment, thinking of the best way to explain things without making it sound as if he was obsessed with ruining Hyungwon’s life - which he was, but Changkyun didn’t need to know that. “I’ve been doing some research, you see, into those rumors about Guhn and Hyungwon. You probably heard them before.”

“Yes, something about a fire.”

“Yes! Do you know anything about that?” Minhyuk asked, feeling much better seeing that Changkyun was more confused about the questions than he was preoccupied with him digging up the bones of Hyungwon’s mysterious past. “Did Hyungwon mention something?”

“No, he never— no,” Changkyun said, shaking his head. “Why? What did you find?”

Minhyuk looked over at the kitchen again for a split second before whispering to Changkyun. “I didn’t tell Jooheon about this because I don’t want to freak him out, but it’s important for you to know, at least.”

“Cut to the chase, will you?”

“I’ve found news articles and I’ve been to the house that used to belong to Guhn’s family,” Minhyuk said, pitching his voice even lower. “Did you know he had two children?”

Changkyun blinked, looking the picture of bafflement. “No, I didn’t.”

“I also found out that Guhn is not his real name. His real name is Charles Hughes.”

“I… also didn’t know that.”

Minhyuk nodded; he expected no different. Why would he know? Changkyun never spoke of Guhn outside the passing remark about how much of a nuisance the man was. They weren’t close. He was not privy to Guhn’s secrets, and if Hyungwon knew about them, he had no reason to share them with Changkyun - as much as he disliked Hyungwon, Minhyuk could at least admit he was not the gossipy sort.

Oh, no. He could see it anytime he met Hyungwon, through his mannerisms and that constant wicked glint in his eye - he distilled his secrets slowly, drop by drop, controlled little doses of poison that were as safe or as deadly as he wanted them to be.

Maybe that’s the reason for Changkyun’s alarming change in appearance - the secrets were killing him. Drop by drop by drop by drop— 

Minhyuk forced himself to focus on the matter at hand instead, no matter how much he wished to go on a tangent about Hyungwon’s evil intentions - as good a reason as any to postpone that next part of his tale. He had to say it, though. Changkyun had to know.

“And the fire… it really happened.” Minhyuk swallowed hard after saying it, took a moment to breathe and center himself before continuing. “His family did die in a fire. His wife, his sister-in-law, and both his children. Six and fourteen.”

Changkyun didn’t react in any way to that information, his face blank, pale, as he processed everything. Minhyuk took the chance to continue his inquiries.

“Do you know when Hyungwon met Guhn? When did they become partners?”

“No,” Changkyun replied, voice brittle. “I don’t know, I— from what Hyungwon told me, I think they met after the fire.”

“Alright, that’s— that’s a relief,” Minhyuk said, and he meant it - if they met after the fire then the chances Hyungwon had been involved became slimmer. Good. Hyungwon might be an evil fiend from Hell, but at least he wasn’t a murderer of six-years-old little girls. “From everything I’ve read, I— I’m not entirely sure the fire was an accident.”

Changkyun took a long, deep breath, and nodded very slow as he rolled the information in his mind. “You think Guhn did it.”

Minhyuk couldn’t say it with words, couldn’t get his voice to come out, so he assented with a short motion of his head. Changkyun inhaled a shaky breath of air, ran a hand through his hair.

“That night at the circus,” Minhyuk said, voice lower than a whisper, “I saw how Hyungwon reacted when he put a hand on his shoulder. He was afraid of Guhn.”

“He was— but for whatever reason, he’s not anymore,” Changkyun said, staring at the floor with a faraway gaze. “If it’s true what you've told me…”

“You have to ask him,” Minhyuk said. “I won’t dig around anymore, I’ve learned far more than I bargained for, but— here,” he pulled from the pocket of his trousers the scrap of paper where he’d written down all the information he’d learned during his investigation, “this is all I know. Dates, names, do with it what you will.”

He pushed the paper into Changkyun’s hands. Changkyun stared at it for a moment, as if in a trance, before he snapped out of it and put the paper inside his pocket, just in time - Jooheon chose that moment to peek around the entrance to the kitchen.

“Is chamomile alright? It’s the only kind we have,” he said. He looked at them odd for a second but didn’t ask. Bless him and his sweet honeyed heart.

“Yes, chamomile is perfect, honey, thank you,” Minhyuk chirped, finding it easy to feign cheer despite the topic still pressing down on his shoulders. Years of experience that came in handy.

“Y-yeah, chamomile is fine,” Changkyun stammered out, then got up. “Do you need any help with that?”

Minhyuk saw how Jooheon’s demeanor shifted - Jooheon had always been subtle in his kindness, all the ways he tried to help those he loved. Things he would brush off as tiny, insignificant, but that held a world of meaning to those he directed them to. This time, it was no different.

“Yes, if you remember how, rich boy.”

Changkyun, for all that he was still shaken, one harder draft of wind all that would be needed to topple him to the ground, laughed. “Of course I remember how, you think I don’t know how to make leaf water!?”

Minhyuk saw Changkyun’s words for what they were: an act. It was what Minhyuk himself did, whenever he wanted to spare Jooheon from the darkness in his head. Laugh. Joke around. Deflect. Pretend everything was fine. Jooheon saw it too, but Jooheon saw beyond that - Jooheon saw his friend in need of help. He saw his friend, who needed help and would not ask for it. Who would not explain things, or tell him what he needed them to do.

So he was dealing with it the only way he knew how - by playing along, giving his friend a chance to breathe and try to forget about his troubles for a moment. It’s who Jooheon was; if he saw someone in need, he helped.

It was one of the many reasons that led Minhyuk to fall so helplessly for him.

His eyes met Jooheon’s once Changkyun entered the kitchen, and he wanted to say it again. God help him, he wanted to say it again and again and again, the words at the tip of his tongue. He didn’t. It wasn’t the right time. Something in the way Jooheon smiled softly at him before following Changkyun inside the kitchen told him that he knew, though.

He knew.

While he waited, Minhyuk decided to make himself useful; they didn’t have a coffee table, as the cramped space didn’t allow for more than the couch and armchair, so he took it upon himself to find something that could work as a makeshift table. Better than to sit there alone and worry about dead children and their living, possibly murderous father.

By the time Jooheon and Changkyun emerged from the kitchen, tea and plates of pastries in hand, Minhyuk had spread an old bedsheet on the floor, tattered and worn, no tears to be spilled if they stained it. A picnic indoors - the weather outside was dreadful, cloudy, humid, and cold, so it was better than going to eat outside anyway. Jooheon smiled when he saw it; that was enough of a reward for Minhyuk.

Changkyun, despite looking rather preoccupied, was mostly present during the entire visit. He laughed when he was meant to laugh, added to the conversation when he was supposed to, made his snarky comments and lewd jokes when (in)appropriate. Changkyun possessed an incredible mind, though - he was present in their conversation, but Minhyuk could see the gears turning behind his eyes. He was thinking, plotting, connecting dots. Who knows where his mind was taking him. Minhyuk couldn’t know, not without learning all the things Changkyun knew, things he could never find out through investigation alone.

Changkyun lived there with Guhn. With Hyungwon. He saw and heard things Minhyuk could only guess at. And there was something happening at the mansion - it wasn’t hard to tell. Changkyun was worried about something, had been since before Minhyuk even mentioned the fire.

“You should get an apartment somewhere in the city,” Minhyuk suggested during their conversation, towards the end of it. It was sudden, unrelated to their previous topic, but he couldn’t help blurting it out - it felt important to push that idea, convince Changkyun to start considering such a path for himself.

Changkyun arched an eyebrow at him. “So Hyungwon would live closer to you and make it easier for you to find out his secrets?”

Minhyuk huffed. That was a fair jab, but this was not about his revenge fantasy. “I just mean that you should have your own place, you know. Be around other people. Living at that isolated place is not good for you.”

“I agree,” Jooheon said after swallowing a large bite of cake. “You should leave the mansion, even if that means bringing Hyungwon along.”

“Yes, yes, you two don’t like Hyungwon, I get it,” Changkyun said as he rolled his eyes. “I’m not leaving him, though. I would never leave him, especially not— not with Guhn. And I doubt he would like this idea.”

“You could get a place and call it your ‘secret getaway’ or something,” Minhyuk suggested. “Don’t present it to him like a new home, just as a place to escape to sometimes. Then, with time, you slowly convince him to move there permanently.”

Changkyun chuckled through his nose and shook his head. “As good as this plan sounds, Hyungwon would never agree. Or do you think I never tried to convince him to leave with me?” He sighed then looked up at the window, the grey clouds up in the sky. “He has plans of his own, I think. And I have a feeling— a feeling that it won’t be long now. I’d rather trust him on this.”

Minhyuk exchanged a look with Jooheon, both of them heaving a concerned breath at the same time before turning to face Changkyun again. Jooheon was the one to speak. “Whatever is going on, you know you can count on us. You can even run away and hide here for a while.”

“As I said, I’m not leaving Hyungwon.”

“Fine, then bring him along,” Jooheon said. “Let’s see if he can survive a day living with us gentry.”

Changkyun snorted. “I’m sure he could manage.” He turned to them from the window, a small smile on his lips. He looked so very tired. Frail. Yet his eyes— his eyes were aglow with something sturdy, solid, a certainty Minhyuk couldn’t recall ever seeing before. Ever _ feeling _ before. “It’s going to be alright. I don’t know what is to come, but whatever it may be, it will be alright.”

“Kyun…” Jooheon began but didn’t finish, instead lowering his head and sighing. “You know what, I won’t ask. Just… please, be careful.”

Changkyun smiled, lips pressed together, dimples on his cheeks. “I always am.”

He said that but, on his way out close to an hour later, he hugged Jooheon tight and for a long time, as if that was the last time. As if that was goodbye.

When the door clicked behind him, Minhyuk had a sudden thought that maybe they shouldn’t have let him go. They shouldn’t— but then again, what could they have done? Tied him up and kept him prisoner until Hyungwon showed up to retrieve his lover? No, that would be wrong to do, whether Hyungwon came for him or not.

Still… just letting him go like that didn’t feel right.

Minhyuk wrapped his arms around Jooheon’s waist from where he stood behind him, burrowed his face into the crook of his neck, the hair on his nape tickling his nose. He didn’t know what to do beyond that - holding him, giving him a semblance of security within the shelter of his arms. Jooheon welcomed him easily, his own arms coming to rest atop Minhyuk’s, keeping him there.

“I’m worried,” he murmured.

“I know, honey. I’m worried, too.”

“I always worry about him,” Jooheon continued. “I always have, ever since we were kids. He never got into trouble. _ Never _. It’s like he’s always had a guardian angel by his side. I still worry. I worry, and I never have to worry, because he always comes out on the other side, unscathed. And yet—”

“Of course you worry about him. You love him. He’s like a younger brother to you, it’s natural to worry,” Minhyuk said, pressing a kiss to Jooheon’s neck. “You’re here for him— we’re _ both _ here for him. He knows that, and maybe that’s all we can do - to be here if he needs us.”

“Even if he needs us, he’s too proud and stubborn to ask for help,” Jooheon said, leaning back into Minhyuk’s embrace. Minhyuk held him tighter. “Should we raid the mansion? Kidnap Kyun?”

“He’ll make you kidnap the scarecrow too, sure you want to go down that road, honey?”

Jooheon laughed at his bitter little quip, at least. Minhyuk smiled against his skin. “I guess you’re right.”

“Mhm, I’ve been right once or twice.” He pressed another kiss to his neck, a noisy, obnoxious one that made Jooheon cringe. “Come on, we should clean up the living room.”

“Minhyuk?” Jooheon called softly, holding him in place before he could walk away.

Minhyuk hummed questioningly and hooked his chin over Jooheon’s shoulder, just as Jooheon turned his head enough to be able to see him. It took him a long moment to marry the movement of Jooheon’s lips to the sound they made, the words they formed, but when it happened, he nearly fainted.

“I love you too.”

The air was knocked out of Minhyuk’s lungs, his heart all but stopped beating, his face went lax with shock. He stared at Jooheon, at the blush on his cheeks and the light in his eyes and— cried. It exploded out of him, all the emotion, all the fear of his feelings not being reciprocated, the shock for actually hearing those words coming from Jooheon and directed at him, so honest and warm, and he would have never expected to hear it, not from Jooheon, not from anyone— yet there it was.

He hid his face in the crook of his neck again, this time to hide his tears, no matter that the reason for them was happiness, and heard Jooheon chuckle, felt him press a kiss to the side of his head. It felt painfully real and extremely unreal at the same time, to hear those words directed at him, to hear the truth in them, his heart close to bursting with that new feeling of redamancy swelling in his chest.

He could still hear it, Jooheon was saying it again, closer to his ear this time, _ I love you _, and Minhyuk hiccuped pitifully only to have Jooheon cooing soothing words at him next, as if he were a child. Maybe he would have been vexed by it any other time, but at that moment, he could only feel— happy.

“I love you,” he said between sniffles and little sobs against the soft skin of Jooheon’s neck, “I love you, I really do, I—”

“Shh, I know,” Jooheon said, turning in his arms to hold him properly, one hand behind his head, fingers tangled with his hair, and Minhyuk let him change the position before pressing his face against his shoulder. “Minhyukie, breathe.”

“I’m breathing.”

“You’re sobbing.”

“I’m sobbing _ and _ breathing.”

Jooheon chuckled. His voice sounded a bit wet around the edges, too. “Come on, I think we both need to sit down for a moment.”

Minhyuk didn’t argue, didn’t protest, didn’t resist when Jooheon began to physically guide him back to the couch, those three words bouncing in the corners of his mind like a kicking ball. _ I love you, I love you, I love you. _ He didn’t believe in the paranormal, didn’t believe in witchcraft, not really, but he willed those words to be a spell, true and binding, a spell of happiness whispered into the air between him and Jooheon. _ I love you _.

Whether the spell worked or not, he would try his damn hardest not to take those feelings for granted, not to let them go to waste.

_ This is it _, he thought. The last chance, and the only chance he needed.

He was not going to screw this up.

◦ ◦ ◦

Changkyun stared at that crumpled piece of paper during the entire journey back to the mansion, all the names scribbled down in Minhyuk’s surprisingly delicate writing, the dates, the attempt at piecing together what happened that night. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to spark suspicion - _ more _ than enough, in fact.

He went back and forth with it, thoughts like cobwebs, fine, frail, but adherent. They caught. They stuck. They clung to the corners of his mind, the nooks and crannies of his conscience. And, like cobwebs, they trapped things. Little bits of information, either relayed to him by Hyungwon, or things he had witnessed himself. Scraps of facts he learned, and, most of all, the kernels of suspicion he had always harbored towards Guhn.

He knew Guhn was a violent man, often unreasonable in his anger. Was it too far-fetched to believe he could have been the one guilty for his family’s demise?

And yet a part of him had trouble accepting that a father would willingly be responsible for his children’s death - maybe that was the issue. Changkyun was looking at it through empathetic eyes, the eyes of someone capable of compassion, and there was a high chance that Guhn was not like him.

He saw how Guhn treated Hyungwon, not as a person but a possession, an object. He saw how Guhn disregarded Hyungwon’s well-being entirely, how he was only satisfied as long as Hyungwon was making him money with the séances. He saw how he treated the servants, also as property and not people. He had experienced Guhn’s disregard as well; Guhn saw him as a leech, mooching off of Hyungwon’s and, by extension, his own resources. Guhn saw him as an unwanted appendage of Hyungwon, an extension his property was not supposed to have. Because Hyungwon should not have anything outside of what he offered. Because Hyungwon was meant to mindlessly follow his rules. Because Hyungwon was not meant to be a person.

When he looked at it through that angle, he could see how, yes, Guhn would _ indeed _ be capable of such a crime. And if Guhn was capable of killing his own family—

Then what about Hyungwon, who was not related to him by blood? What about Changkyun himself?

By the time the carriage stopped before the stone steps of the mansion, Changkyun was almost certain of Guhn’s guilt - all he needed was confirmation. He hopped off, thanked the coachman for driving him to and from town, and rushed inside to find Hyungwon. Hyungwon knew the answer to his question. He knew the answers to all of his questions.

The foyer was empty and quiet, the dwindling light of the late afternoon casting long shadows on the marble floor. He searched about, head on a swivel, for any signs Hyungwon was on the ground floor, but he already knew he wouldn’t be there - he was in his study. That strange connection they had certainly came in handy at times, and lately it had become so strong it might as well be a physical string tying them together. To find him, he just had to follow that string.

Changkyun didn’t waste any more time and climbed the stairs as swiftly as he could, all the way to the third floor. He saw no signs of Guhn on his way up, no lights from his study, no sounds anywhere, so he assumed he was not around. Good. Better.

He continued on to the third floor and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, that now-familiar sensation of being watched strongest when he reached the corridor of Hyungwon’s study. He ignored it; he was getting quite good at ignoring it. Hyungwon had already confirmed the mansion was haunted, so anytime something strange happened, Changkyun would now simply blame it on those pesky ghosts and pretend nothing was wrong. They couldn’t hurt him. Hyungwon said they couldn’t hurt him.

There was something different about it that day, though. It was— stronger. More pointed. Like there was not one, but multiple pairs of eyes following his every move. Anticipating something. What, he could not begin to guess.

He thought he caught a glimpse of a white dress and long black hair on a corner as he walked past the door of the rotunda. _ Ignore it _.

As he reached for the door handle to enter the study, the door opened; Changkyun thought it had been just another paranormal happening for a split second, that the door opened by itself, but only until he saw a man he didn’t know on the other side, staring at him wide-eyed as if he wasn’t expecting him to be there. The feeling was certainly mutual.

The look in his eyes was what stuck out to him the most. He looked— haunted.

And, he also noticed, the moment the door was opened, the tension in the air burst like a bubble.

“Ah, you’re back!” Hyungwon’s voice said from behind the man, and Changkyun looked over the stranger’s shoulder at his lover, finding him watching them with a small smile on his lips. “Changkyun, this is Kihyun.”

Oh, right - ‘K’. He’d completely forgotten about Hyungwon’s invitation for him to visit him that afternoon.

He stammered as he reached out to shake Kihyun’s hand. “A-ah, it’s— nice to meet you.”

Kihyun eyed him warily for a second, for who knows what reason; he was holding something against his chest, and he deftly shifted the hold of the whatever-it-was from one hand to the other before he shook his hand. He could not see what he was holding. “Right, it’s, uh— nice to meet you too. Hyungwon has mentioned you.”

“He mentioned you as well,” he said, aiming for polite but coming out awkward, uncertain. He glanced over at Hyungwon, who was watching their interaction with an amused glow in his eyes. Ass. Looking back at Kihyun, he said, “I hope he was able to help you with your problem.”

He watched Kihyun’s throat move as he swallowed, saw him look back at Hyungwon for a heartbeat. Kihyun was pale-faced, the rim of his eyes reddened betraying he had cried recently, but even under that delicate appearance there was something about him that spoke of strength. Of resolve. Considering his situation, Changkyun understood; it would take a lot of strength and resolve to bear the burden Kihyun was carrying on his narrow shoulders.

“I suppose that remains to be seen,” Kihyun finally said once he turned back to him. He was still gripping his hand. He let go. “I should get going.”

“Indeed, it’s a long way to the docks,” Hyungwon agreed from where he stood, next to his desk. “And you have a long night ahead of you.”

Kihyun didn’t respond. He ducked his head, closed his fingers tighter around the mystery object he was still holding against his chest. Changkyun looked up at Hyungwon, a silent question in his eyes, but Hyungwon only gave him a reassuring smile. He seemed quite confident that whatever he gave Kihyun would be helpful in the treatment of his lovers, and if Hyungwon was confident, Changkyun had no reason to doubt him. He did help him. Kihyun couldn’t see it at that moment, but he would see it soon.

Before any of them could say more, soft footsteps caught Changkyun’s attention and he turned just in time to see Kyla approaching with a tray in her hands, a single cup of tea in it; Hyungwon’s scheduled headache-be-gone tea. Kyla greeted Kihyun with a polite nod of her head and shot Changkyun a friendly smile as she walked by to enter the study and leave the teacup on Hyungwon’s desk.

“Thank you, Kyla,” he said, and he sounded as if that teacup contained all the answers to his problems. It probably did, which spoke volumes on how strong his headache was. “Can you accompany Kihyun to the door, please?”

“Of course,” she said, and walked back towards the entrance where Kihyun was still standing. He looked a bit like a frightened doe.

“I— thank you,” he said to Hyungwon.

“You are quite welcome,” Hyungwon replied with a smile. “And Kihyun? You have a lovely life ahead of you. Don’t waste it.”

Kihyun pursed his lips until they were nothing but a straight line of tension and nodded, before turning around to follow Kyla down the stairs. To Changkyun, he only ducked his head in farewell and said nothing more. Changkyun returned the action and, once they were out of sight, entered the study and closed the door behind him.

Hyungwon was searching for something in his medicine cabinet when he turned around; his concern became stronger. “Bad headache?” he asked.

“I might have gotten a little carried away,” Hyungwon replied, taking a brown glass bottle from the cabinet and walking over to his desk. “Helping Kihyun took a lot out of me, I think I’ve overdone it.”

Changkyun approached Hyungwon with careful steps, trying not to make any loud noises. “Do you need anything?”

Hyungwon gave him one of his gentle smiles and shook his head, soon returning to his task of adding a few drops of whatever was in that brown bottle to his tea. “I’ll be alright, I just need a moment to rest. How was your visit with Jooheon?”

“It was— it was alright,” Changkyun said, stumbling on his words as he remembered all the questions he had to ask Hyungwon. Best to ease into it, not jump into them right away. “Jooheon seems happy, so does Minhyuk.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’re very happy,” Hyungwon commented, closing the bottle and walking back to the cabinet to store it in its rightful place. “They’ll be happy for a very long time.”

Changkyun exhaled softly at those words, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. “They will?”

Hyungwon looked over at him and smiled. He looked sad despite the positive prediction. “They will. All I see for them is happiness for many years to come.”

“Good. They both deserve to be happy.” The only response he got from Hyungwon was a hum to assent to his comment, and he waited for Hyungwon to move back to his desk and take a seat on his chair before speaking again. “Are you alright? You seem a bit— down.”

“I’m just tired, Kyun. No need to concern yourself.” He took a couple of sips of tea and sighed, the action drawn out as if even that was an effort; he did look tired, yes, but there was something else underneath, something that had been there since earlier that morning when Hyungwon was lost in his thoughts. It filled Changkyun with no small amount of trepidation.

He took the last few steps to reach Hyungwon, only so he could lean down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “I’ll always be concerned about you, baby.” He wrapped his arms around Hyungwon’s shoulders, hugging him the best way he could in the awkward angle they were in. “Are you sure you’re alright? You seem as if there’s something bothering you.”

“‘Tis the season, I suppose. I tend to get a bit strange this time of year,” Hyungwon said as he leaned against Changkyun, eyes closed. “Give it a couple of days and I’ll be good as new.”

Changkyun took the unintended hint right away - painful memories, which he should not disturb. He wanted to, his curiosity was rattling inside him, begging for him to ask, but Hyungwon already had a headache; he didn’t want to add to it, not more than he already would with his next question. He took his time, though, picking and choosing the right words in his head, the best way to present the topic, instead of simply blurting out ‘so, did Guhn murder his entire family?’ like some lunatic.

Besides, giving Hyungwon a moment to drink his tea and rest his mind felt important, too. So he waited, ever-patient, gently stroking Hyungwon’s hair and keeping quiet; it always felt soothing to be with Hyungwon like that, silent and still as if their moment together was suspended outside of time and space, separate from reality, and they could just be. Catch their breath, something sorely needed those days, with Guhn’s increased need to control and watch their every move. It would be good if they had a few hours to do only that, to rest and recharge their drained energy, but they had no such luxury; they had a séance scheduled for that night, and time was ticking.

He took a deep breath, and very cautiously said, “Won… have you ever heard the name ‘Charles Hughes’?”

Hyungwon’s movements stuttered as he raised his teacup to his lips, and he let out a soft, wry chuckle. “Ah, so the puppy finally dug up the right bones. Good.”

“I take that as a ‘yes’.”

“A rose by any other name.” The dismissal of the question was followed by a quick sip of his tea, which he lowered back to its saucer before saying, “Ask me the question you’re really worried about.”

He felt like he knew what the answer would be, but he had to know. He had to hear it. “The fire. Was it an accident?”

Hyungwon looked up at him for a moment, a soft hitch between his brows, before he faced forward again. “Say, have you ever wondered why Guhn always wears gloves?” The question took Changkyun by surprise and he instinctively shook his head, although he could already guess what Hyungwon would say next. He wasn’t wrong. “His hands are badly burned from the night he set his house on fire as his family slept. No, not slept - while they were unconscious.”

Changkyun felt bile rising up his throat, the taste bitter on the back of his tongue. “What do you mean?”

“Let me pose you another question,” Hyungwon said and looked up at him; he couldn’t recall ever seeing him so serious, “why do you think I’m so concerned about my tea being tampered with?”

Changkyun stumbled back and grabbed the edge of the desk in order to keep his balance. He felt sick, dizzy as if there was suddenly not enough oxygen reaching his brain, light-headed and dazed. “Did he poison his family?”

“Not exactly.” Hyungwon’s voice had lowered now, as did his eyes. “He gave them non-lethal doses of laudanum, just enough to incapacitate them. So they wouldn’t wake up.”

His ears were ringing, a million thoughts rushing through his head. It was worse than he thought, so much worse, and Hyungwon _ knew _, he knew all along and he stayed— why, was he afraid Guhn would kill him too? Had Guhn threatened him in some way, perhaps implied Hyungwon would suffer the same fate as his family if he didn’t cooperate?

And with Hyungwon getting on his nerves as he’d been doing lately— 

“I use laudanum to soothe my headaches quite often,” Hyungwon whispered, dragging Changkyun’s attention back to him and causing his panic to increase tenfold. “How easy it would be for him to get away with murder by having my death ruled an accidental overdose.”

That was enough to snap Changkyun from his shock, and he pushed himself away from the desk and wrapped one hand around Hyungwon’s arm to pull him along as he tried to make his way to the door. “We’re leaving, come on.”

Hyungwon didn’t budge from his chair. “I can’t.”

“I don’t care about the damn contract, we’re not staying another night under the same roof as a murderer!”

Hyungwon sighed, tired, and closed his eyes, brought a hand up to massage his temple. “Changkyun—”

At any other moment, he would have let it go, would have allowed Hyungwon to rest without any added stress, but this felt too important to postpone. “We can go stay at Jooheon’s for the night, then figure out the next step in the morning.”

“Kyun…” Hyungwon said, and even his voice sounded exhausted, “your friends don’t want me there.”

“I don’t care, this isn’t about—”

“I won’t force them to endure my presence, not when there’s a risk they’ll resent you for it.”

“I don’t care if they resent me!” he snapped, then forced himself to get a grip, lower his volume. He didn’t want to make a scene, not when Guhn could have returned from his errands already and walk in on them. “Won, please…”

“I’m not leaving.”

“We can stay at a hotel, then! Anywhere but here, just—”

“You are free to go.” Hyungwon’s words felt like a slap across his face. “I won’t make you stay here with me if you don’t want to.”

“Wh— do you really think I’d leave without you? That I’d allow you to stay here alone with him?” he asked, equal parts baffled, hurt, and outraged.

Hyungwon let out a sharp exhale. “All I’m saying is—”

“No!” Changkyun cut him off, raising his voice again without realizing he was doing so. “We’re leaving together!”

“I’m not leaving,” Hyungwon repeated, his voice firm. As if to illustrate his point, he reached for his teacup again and took a leisurely sip from it. Changkyun groaned, growing more and more frustrated by the second.

“Hyungwon, _ please _—”

“No.”

“Why!? Why stay when he’s clearly deranged and can do you harm!?”

Hyungwon was quiet for a long time, staring at the small amount of tea still left inside his cup. “The truth, then. Very well.” He lowered the teacup back to the desk, his movements controlled, precise, giving nothing away. “Do you know what people do to mediums to try and debunk their abilities?”

Once again, Changkyun was caught by surprise. “I— no, I don’t.”

Hyungwon didn’t make him wait this time, the words pouring out of his mouth loud and clear. “They trap them inside very small boxes, so they can’t move or escape, for several hours. They seal their mouths, sometimes their eyes, with hot candle wax, so they can’t move their lips or see. Examine them with surgical tools in the most humiliating and painful ways.”

Changkyun subconsciously brought a hand to his own stomach, guts churning at the mere thought of Hyungwon going through any of that. “Won—”

“Do you have any idea how many times these skeptics have come to try and do the same to me?” he continued; Changkyun shook his head no. It was all he could do. “And do you know who stopped them? Guhn did.”

“So you stay for being thankful!?”

“No. I stay because it’s better than the alternative. Here, I have the contract to protect me - one of the clauses states that Guhn is responsible for keeping those who would test my abilities away. Outside— I would have no such protection.”

“I can protect you!”

“You can’t.” Changkyun opened his mouth to argue but Hyungwon stopped him, looking up at him with sadness in his eyes, an apologetic smile on his lips. “Kyun, you can’t.”

“Why not?” he demanded. “Why can’t I protect you, why—”

Hyungwon lowered his head again. “It’s not just about that.”

“What is it about then!?”

Hyungwon was quiet for several seconds, staring at his own lap, expression tight, hard to read. “Kyun… can’t you see?” he asked, and he sounded so frail, so small, that Changkyun’s immediate reaction was to be alarmed. “I am not wanted anywhere else. I’m barely even wanted here, where my abilities have a purpose, out there— there is no place for me.”

And there it was. The root of everything, the real reason why Hyungwon was so adamant about staying, why he was never comfortable outside of the mansion and never truly happy inside it. It was not complacency but fear what stopped him - no, not fear. A feeling of being a stranger in the crowd, the monster amongst humans, of not fitting in. Changkyun had felt like that at times, yet he couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like for Hyungwon to have those constant thoughts in his head - _ I don’t belong here. I should not be here. I am not wanted here. I don’t fit in. I’m wrong. _

Changkyun shook his head, his heart shattered inside his chest for Hyungwon, for his own inability to make it better. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” he said matter-of-factly, and Changkyun moved to stand in front of him, between him and the desk, and lowered himself to a crouch so he could look up at Hyungwon’s face. Seeing his eyes shiny with gathered tears broke his heart further.

“You have so many patrons, do none of them care for you!?” Changkyun asked, and it came out harsher than he thought it would because he couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that Hyungwon was not dear to anybody.

“Not a one.” Hyungwon smiled at him, brittle, so very sad. “They see me talk with the voices of their dearly departed, but they get to leave the séance and go back to their normal lives. Me… I don’t get to leave. I bring my ghosts with me wherever I go, and that is not something others want around them when they’re not paying for it.”

“No. No, that’s not—” Changkyun shook his head, emphasizing his rejection of that concept. “I want you around, always.”

Hyungwon brought a hand up to Changkyun’s face, stroking his cheek lovingly with the back of his fingers. “You are one of a kind, and I cannot express with words how grateful I am to have you in my life. And that’s why— that’s why I’m giving you the option to leave. You deserve so much better than… this. Than me.”

Changkyun shook his head again, more forcefully this time, and took the hand Hyungwon had on his face, held it against his own chest. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying with you, no matter what.”

“Kyun—”

“No. Don’t say anything, don’t—”

“I want to leave,” Hyungwon said, and he meant it, he meant every syllable - Changkyun could hear the truth in his voice, as he could hear the quiet resignation. “I do, but I— I can’t.”

“You _ can _.”

Hyungwon shook his head and sniffled, still valiantly trying to keep his tears from falling. “I have a plan, and we’re going to leave soon, I promise.”

“Won…” Changkyun started but stopped himself and sighed, bringing Hyungwon’s hand to his lips to press a kiss to his palm. Quietly, gently, he said, “Baby, we can’t stay here, not with him.”

In that same frail voice, he murmured, “It’ll be alright.”

“It’s already not alright!” Changkyun cried, voice breaking at points. He was not as good at keeping himself from crying as Hyungwon was. “I— God, I hate this.”

Hyungwon lowered his head, pale hair hiding his face from view. Then he hiccuped, a single tiny sob, and Changkyun knew he had just lost the battle against the tears. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Won, no, it’s not your fault, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Changkyun shook his head frantically and stood, gathering Hyungwon in his arms and holding him tight, feeling him wrap his arms around his waist, press his face against his stomach. Hyungwon felt so small in his arms, shivering as he cried in silence - a last-ditch effort to save face, Changkyun assumed, since he had already taken a blow to his pride by letting himself cry in front of him; the next best thing would be not to make a spectacle of it. Changkyun held him tighter. “I wish I could change how the world is, I wish you didn’t have to feel like this, I— I love you so much. You are so loved, you are so wanted, but I’m just one person and I know it’s not enough—”

“It is enough. It is,” Hyungwon interrupted in his broken voice as he continued to cry, fingers clutching the fabric of Changkyun’s waistcoat.

He didn’t know what else to say, if there was even anything he _ could _ say to make it better. He only held Hyungwon close, one arm around his shoulders, the other cradling his head against his body, hoping it was enough to comfort him. It wasn’t, he didn’t think Hyungwon’s pain could be eased by his embrace alone, but he would try anyway. He refused not to.

He’d suspected Hyungwon felt this way before, but to have confirmation, and in such a visceral way— knowing Hyungwon as well as he did, it made sense that he would try to conceal something like this from him, be it because he didn’t want to worry him or because he didn’t want to say it out loud.

Who would have thought that his mighty cat was actually a fragile bird in disguise. _ A gilded cage is still a cage _, Hyungwon had said to him once. He should have known then, should have seen the implications more clearly, but back then he was too busy being awed by Hyungwon’s existence, his beauty, his grace, that mystical connection they had. If he had— what? What could he have done? Stolen Hyungwon away like he fantasized so many times in the beginning? It wouldn’t change anything, not if Hyungwon was so certain that he was better off staying where he was.

At the same time, though, he knew that they couldn’t stay. Knowing what he knew now, remaining at the mansion with Guhn was as appealing as staying inside a tiny cage with a hungry lion. And Hyungwon recognized the risk too, if his paranoia about being drugged through his tea was of any indication.

Something had to give, and Changkyun knew it would not be Hyungwon. He was too set in his ways, while Changkyun was better at adapting. At adjusting.

He sniffed, wiping away his own tears with the sleeve of his shirt before saying as firmly as he could, “Fine. Fine, we do it your way, we’ll stay, but— at least let me take care of you. Stop telling me to stay out of it and to hold back, I’m done sitting on the sidelines and letting you fight every battle on your own.”

Hyungwon only nodded in response, still refusing to raise his head; his face was still pressed against his stomach, Changkyun’s clothes feeling damp in that area from his lover’s tears. He ran his hand through his hair, hoping to soothe him at least a little, hugging him tighter with his other arm, mind running faster than the speed of sound, hopping from alarming thought to even more alarming thought. He didn’t want to panic, not when Hyungwon was in such a fragile state, so he focused on breathing, for now.

If they were staying at the mansion with Guhn, then Changkyun would have to get scrappy. Less going out into town and leaving Hyungwon alone, more coming up with ways to keep Guhn away from him. From them.

“There, it’s alright, baby, it’s alright,” he murmured against the top of Hyungwon’s head, finally finding it in himself to stop crying. “I’ve got you.”

And he did. He had him and he was not letting go, would not go anywhere, not without him.

“I’m sorry,” Hyungwon said and gave a mighty sniffle, pulling away from Changkyun and leaning back at last to wipe at his eyes with the back of his hands like an oversized child. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so emotional.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Wonnie.”

Hyungwon blinked up at him, his eyes large and wide at the nickname. There was an emotion there Changkyun couldn’t quite pinpoint, but it was— lovely. Then he smiled, a smile that was part sad and part joyous, and he couldn’t help himself from hugging him tight once more. Hyungwon let him, hands resting on his hips, head on his stomach, his breathing slowly stabilizing again.

“We’re going to be so very late,” Hyungwon murmured, obviously trying to sound more light-hearted than he felt. “Guhn might actually kill us.”

“Don’t joke about that, please,” Changkyun said in a whiny tone, and was glad to hear Hyungwon chuckle in response. Lifting up his mood a bit felt like the correct approach, knowing how proud Hyungwon could be - an excuse to protect whatever was left of his pride was the best Changkyun could offer him, at least for the moment. “And we won’t be late, we have plenty of time.”

“I might need a few hours with my head inside a bucket of cold water to fix the mess my face must be right now, though.”

“There is no possible way your face can be a mess, baby,” Changkyun said before gently coaxing Hyungwon to look up at him, which, this time, he did. His eyes were a bit puffy and bloodshot, the tip of his nose reddened, but nothing too alarming. He smiled down at him, wiped the remaining tear-tracks away with his thumbs, and said, “See? Still gorgeous.”

“You’re far too smooth for your own good,” Hyungwon said as he finally pushed himself up from his chair. “And I think I should ask Kyla to make me one more cup of tea before we leave, because I negated all the healing effects of the one I just drank by crying like a toddler.”

“It certainly didn’t help,” Changkyun agreed. Then, more serious, he asked, “Are you alright?”

Hyungwon grimaced and covered his face with both hands. “I’m _ fine _, please pretend this never happened.”

Changkyun chortled at Hyungwon’s adorable display of shyness, always a refreshing sight. “Very well, since you asked in such a cute manner.” Hyungwon gave him a slap on the arm in retaliation, which only made him laugh harder. “Come on, cutie, we have to get ready.”

“Stop calling me ‘cute’, I’m not ‘cute’,” Hyungwon grumbled as they made their way out, and Changkyun felt a bit more at ease - Grumpy Hyungwon was better than Sad Hyungwon, in his humble opinion. At least Grumpy Hyungwon still had a little fight left in him.

He was still worried, though, quite a lot. Worried about Hyungwon’s frail state of mind, worried about Guhn’s crescendo of rage, worried about himself caught in between the two of them; there are collaterals in every conflict, and Changkyun was set up to become a casualty if he didn’t take matters into his own hands. He had to protect himself, and he had to protect Hyungwon, because Hyungwon— he wasn’t so sure anymore that Hyungwon knew what he was doing. He was poking an angry hyena with a very short stick and assuming it wouldn’t bite his arm off based on nothing but his predictions. Just because he hadn’t been wrong before did not make him infallible. It didn’t mean he would never be wrong.

Hyungwon had his ghosts to guide him, and that was his prerogative, his way of dealing with things, but Changkyun also had a way to deal with things - he had real-life experience with thwarting threats. He could see the signs of a situation about to go awry, knew when to preempt his escape to avoid any ill consequences, and this qualified as a risky situation.

They were living with a man who murdered his own children. One of them was only six. _ Six _.

And Hyungwon knew from the start - was that his bargaining chip? Did he hold that knowledge over Guhn’s head to keep him from acting against him? From a logical point of view, their arrangement made sense; Hyungwon keeps Guhn’s secrets, Guhn keeps Hyungwon’s secrets. It was mutually beneficial, or it had been, once - that had changed.

Now, Hyungwon was throwing himself at the walls of his cage trying to break free, and Guhn was not liking his acts of rebellion. Hyungwon was making himself a liability, one that Guhn would certainly prefer to contain and eliminate rather than allow to run amok.

Hyungwon knew too much, after all. Guhn would never simply allow him to walk away, not when he held the lock and keys to his secrets in his hands.

Hyungwon saw the threat and chose to fight fire with fire; Changkyun was just now seeing just how bad their situation was, how dicey and precarious, and he decided to act preemptively, as he always did. In this scenario, that meant expecting an attack at any and all times. He had to be ready to defend himself and Hyungwon if Guhn decided to get violent. His first choice was, of course, leaving, but since Hyungwon would not do the smart thing, then Changkyun would have to step in before they both wound up dead. He wouldn’t have time to do much that night as they were already late, but he could at least come up with a new idea and put it into motion first thing in the morning.

All the while as he got ready to leave for that night’s séance, Changkyun was turning those thoughts in his head, over and over, as he freshened up and changed into his finer clothes, as he combed his hair, as he gathered his sound effect props and his—

He frowned when he opened the drawer of his desk, where he usually kept his notepad, the one where he scribbled his ideas and thoughts regarding séances. He distinctly remembered putting it there before leaving to visit Jooheon earlier that day, it had been sitting right at the very top of the papers he stored there, but— it wasn’t there. He rummaged about a bit, searched the other couple of drawers, under the desk, under his bed, inside his armoire, but no sign of it.

“Won?” he called from the door of his room to Hyungwon, who was finishing getting ready in the room across the bathroom. Hyungwon poked his head around the doorframe to give him attention, and he had recovered to the point Changkyun would never have been able to tell he’d been crying if he hadn’t witnessed it. “Have you seen my notepad? I can’t find it anywhere.”

“Didn’t you put it in the drawer as usual?”

“I did, but it’s not here.”

Hyungwon hummed and shrugged, seemingly not worried. “I haven’t seen it anywhere else. You can try checking my study, but I doubt it’s there.”

“I doubt it’s there too, I didn’t take it up there today,” Changkyun said and huffed, pouting at the open drawer as if it would give him his notepad back. “I’m positive I put it here before I left.”

“Didn’t it fall?”

“No, I already checked.”

“Do you need it for tonight?”

Changkyun thought for a second before shaking his head. “No, not really. I know my cues by heart, but I like having it with me, just in case.”

“I don’t think we have time to look for it now, but we can search for it tomorrow,” Hyungwon said with a gentle smile. “I’m sure it will turn up somewhere.”

Changkyun merely sighed and nodded to agree, and didn’t think of it anymore. He had more pressing matters to be concerned about than a lost item.

Which is the reason why he didn’t notice Hyungwon slipping the notepad into one of his own drawers earlier.

◦ ◦ ◦

The sun had set but the sky had yet to turn completely dark by the time Kihyun made it back home, after stopping at the market to buy all the ingredients he needed to prepare dinner and making a quick detour to their warehouse to grab some of their imported spices and a bottle of wine. In any other occasion, he would not have done so - those were meant to be sold, to raise their savings, but Kihyun couldn’t see the point anymore. Everything was falling apart and saving money was the last thing on his mind.

His heart had been pounding all day, loud and hard and fast, and it had yet to slow down. He didn’t think it would, not until— _ if _ Hyungwon’s miracle worked. It might not, and that was a possibility he had to consider despite not wanting to think about it.

That was his last resort. He had no other plans, and if that failed too, then— then what? He didn’t know. He didn’t _ want _ to know. Hyungwon said it would work, with no shadow of a doubt, and Kihyun so desperately wanted to believe him - but it was Hyungwon’s word or nothing. Grasping at straws the way he was, Kihyun’s only option was to take Hyungwon’s word.

He didn’t bother dropping off the large shopping bag he was carrying at the kitchen before going to check on his lovers. The door was closed, no sounds from within, which instantly filled Kihyun with dread. He tried to calm himself, school his expression back into neutrality, and knocked a couple of times with his free hand.

He knew, logically, that he had no reason to worry - he’d seen them both earlier before leaving to see Hyungwon, and they had been fine. Or as fine as they possibly could be, considering. Hoseok was weak but recovering well, and Hyunwoo was no worse for the wear despite being tired, yet there was always that little voice in the back of his mind taunting him with ‘what ifs’. What if things took a turn for the worse while he was out, what if his lovers left him and were halfway to the nearest sanatorium, _ what if _— 

To his relief, he heard footsteps approaching and soon enough the door opened to reveal an exhausted-looking Hyunwoo, his hair a mess and lower face darkened as he hadn’t shaved in over two days. He smiled when he locked eyes with Kihyun.

“Welcome back,” he said. His voice sounded rough, as if he had been napping. He probably had been. 

“Thank you,” Kihyun said, and tried peeking over Hyunwoo’s shoulder. “How is Hoseok doing?”

“He’s fine,” Hyunwoo replied as he opened the door further to reveal Hoseok reclined on his pillows, a book in his hands. He raised his head and smiled at Kihyun, and he looked so incredibly frail Kihyun believed for a second Hoseok had passed and he was being faced with his ghost. 

Somehow, he managed not to let that fleeting thought show on his face. “Hey, bunny,” he greeted softly. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better,” Hoseok replied, his voice as weak as his appearance was. “The fever is gone, at least.”

“Thank God.” Kihyun all but exhaled the words and smiled a bit brighter. “Think you’re well enough to eat at the table tonight?”

Hoseok perked up at the question. “You’re cooking?”

Kihyun nodded to confirm. “It won’t be anything fancy, but you should have something a little more hearty to eat than just store-bought soup.”

“I think I can eat at the table,” Hoseok said. “Even if I can’t, I’m tired of staying cooped up in this room.”

“Good, I think we all need to have a nice dinner together, like we used to,” said Kihyun. Hyunwoo shot him a suspicious glance, but made no comments. “It should be ready in a couple of hours, so you”, he turned to Hyunwoo, “should really take the time to bathe, stinky.”

Hoseok snorted from the bed and even Hyunwoo couldn’t help but chuckle at Kihyun’s good-natured jab. “I will.”

“You should too, bunny, you can’t go on with just kitten baths,” Kihyun said, giving Hoseok a stern but playful look, before stepping back to make his way to the kitchen. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

He then walked away calmly despite his anxiety, his heart still pounding in his chest, louder than his footsteps. He was still able to hear that Hyunwoo had followed him, but he didn’t acknowledge it right away - he got to the kitchen, dropped the shopping bag on the table, and just then turned to face Hyunwoo with an innocent quizzical expression on his face.

Hyunwoo, who had stopped at the door, was now openly looking at him with suspicion. “What are you doing?”

“Making dinner.”

“Is this to be a symbolic last meal of sorts?” he asked, and Kihyun was taken aback by the sudden accusation. “Because if it is then—”

“It’s not! Hyunwoo, what—” Kihyun sputtered, filled with both outrage and panic, because… well. It might very well be their last meal. He didn’t know. “Do you have any idea how useless I’ve felt this past week?”

It was Hyunwoo’s turn to jerk back. Using the truth as a cover-up for his deception worked like a charm, and Kihyun was not about to regret it.

He continued, not needing to fake how incensed he’d become with the accusation, even if his overreaction had a different root. “You didn’t let me anywhere near Hoseok all week, the only thing I could do was wait and pray for him to recover, so this— this is something I can do, and it’s futile and it’s small and it won’t change anything, but you are not going to stand there and act as if this means more than it does when all I want to do is help.”

Hyunwoo ducked his head, cheeks pink with shame. “I’m sorry, I thought—”

“You thought wrong.” Kihyun cut him off before inhaling deeply through his nose to find his center again. “It’s just dinner. It’s just me wanting to make something nice for Hoseok and for you, so we can spend at least the duration of a meal in the same room. Or will I have to eat in the kitchen while you two are in the living room?”

Hyunwoo swallowed hard and shook his head. “N-no, I… I’m sorry, Ki. I’m still a bit on edge and tired, I wasn’t thinking.”

Kihyun nodded, his motions stiff. “I know. It’s alright. We’ve all been tired, I won’t hold this against you.”

“Thank you,” Hyunwoo breathed out the words and approached to press a kiss to Kihyun’s forehead. “I’m sorry for keeping you away. I just don’t want you to get sick too.”

“I know, love,” Kihyun said and smiled up at him. He did know, and while it broke his heart to be kept away, he understood their reasons - not that it mattered anymore. “Now go bathe, you really do need it.”

Hyunwoo rolled his eyes but smiled and nodded before making his way out of the kitchen. The moment he was gone, Kihyun’s smile dropped from his face as if never there at all.

He didn’t even know how he managed to keep himself smiling for so long.

He moved around the kitchen automatically, starting the fire on the stove, gathering the tools he would need to cook, setting out the ingredients on the table, washing his hands in the sink, then the vegetables. His hands were shaking, something he had to make a conscientious effort to control, but the rest— he was not present mentally.

The little pouch felt heavy in his breast pocket, a constant reminder of his choice.

_ (“What do I do with this?” he asked Hyungwon. _

_ “It must be ingested,” Hyungwon replied. “It can be consumed as it is or mixed with a beverage. It’s up to you.” _

_ “And what exactly is it?” _

_ “You can think of it as a… purifier, of sorts.”) _

A purifier, he said. That didn’t really tell him anything about what it was made of. He took the pouch from his pocket, undid the neat ribbon that kept it closed, and looked inside at the three thumb-sized vials of clear liquid that sat in it. His hands shook harder.

_ (“Three?” _

_ Hyungwon arched an eyebrow. “Yes. Or did you think you could behave recklessly and face no consequences?”) _

He quickly closed the pouch and shoved it inside a nearby drawer, trying to focus on preparing dinner. He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to look at it too closely, didn’t want to imagine how much more terrible things would become if that ‘purifier’ didn’t work.

All three of them, dying together and for the same reason. Romantic if read in a poem or epic tale, but depressing and pathetic in a real-life scenario, and all because he had, as Hyungwon had so eloquently put it, behaved recklessly. Kissing his lovers on the mouth, being intimate with them, taking no precautions to protect himself from contagion, and he had only himself to blame. And a part of him had wanted this, wished for this, so he wouldn’t be left out anymore, so he wouldn’t be left behind, alone, but now— what was he thinking, if at all?

Getting sick didn’t help - wouldn’t help. He didn’t want to be sick, didn’t want to suffer the way Hoseok and Hyunwoo were suffering and for no reason other than being stupid, so if Hyungwon’s magical cure didn’t work… then all three of them would likely share the same fate. Blood, pain, and a slow death. 

And he would not tell them, not yet, at least - he would only tell them if the cure didn’t work.

He shook his head, tried to shoo those thoughts away. He had dwelled on it enough, had cried about it the whole carriage ride back to town, and crying would not change anything.

Instead, he focused on preparing their meal. If it turned out to be the last, he wanted it to be as tasty as it could possibly be, despite it being quite simple - a cut of roasted pork, gravy, and potatoes. It was a meal they all liked, and it was certainly more filling than the soups they had been consuming the past several days. If it was their last meal, he would be content with it. He hoped Hoseok and Hyunwoo were of the same mind as he.

As the food cooked, something that would likely take a while, Kihyun went about setting the table in the living room. It was small, a rectangle that was very close to being a square, so clearing it was not hard. They didn’t have decorations, never cared much about interior design, but there was a vast amount of papers and documents scattered about, a couple of books, a few pencils with the tips gnawed - Kihyun had a tendency to chew on his pencils when anxious. He gathered everything and put it away where it should be, inside a nearby cabinet, until all that was left on the table was the book of Greek mythology.

Choice and chance, so intricately entwined Kihyun wasn’t sure which was the predominant one. Everything had felt so… easy. As if the solutions to his problems had dropped down from heaven right onto his lap. Chance had allowed him to meet Hyungwon. Trusting him was a choice, one he struggled with until the very last second, and that, too, felt more like something that had been ordained by the universe, outside of his control.

It felt as if everything was a domino effect, one piece collapsing after the other in perfect sequence, until it culminated in his decision to accept the deal.

If he didn’t know any better, he would believe that Hyungwon had orchestrated everything from the very start.

Nonsense - he didn’t make Hoseok sick. He didn’t make Hyunwoo sick. He didn’t force Hyunwoo to enter illegal fights. He didn’t make Hoseok’s condition worse. If anything, Hyungwon was the vulture circling the weakest of the pack. He didn’t create the situation, but he was exploiting it.

And yet— it was still hard for Kihyun to see another way out.

And if Hyungwon actually came through and gave him a cure that worked, then did it really matter what his ultimate goal was? Not in Kihyun’s opinion.

Two lives— no, _ three _ lives. Kihyun seemed to have gotten out with a better deal than Hyungwon had, so… was it really generosity? Was the favor he asked symbolic?

No, a man like Hyungwon didn’t deal in symbolism and tokens. He had something in mind.

Kihyun didn’t want to know what it was. It didn’t matter, not to him.

He took the book from the table and placed it carefully on a nearby shelf, small and already filled to the point of overflowing with books and old ledgers. He would take good care of it, that Greek mythology book. It had given him advice - if good or bad, he would find out soon enough.

_ (“How do I know if it worked?” _

_ “It acts overnight as you sleep. You’ll know in the morning.” _

_ “But how will I know?” _

_ “You’ll know.”) _

He shook his head and refocused on the task at hand, moving back and forth from the kitchen to the living room, bringing with him everything he needed to set the table. That done, he went to check on his lovers.

Entering the bedroom, he was met with Hoseok who had, apparently, bathed first and was sitting on the bed drying his hair with a towel. Hyunwoo was nowhere in sight, which led Kihyun to assume he was still bathing. And shaving, hopefully - Hyunwoo’s beard pricked something awful.

Hoseok noticed Kihyun at the door and smiled at him; Kihyun wondered how the breeze that came through the window hadn’t blown him away yet, so frail he seemed. A wisp of himself.

“Is dinner ready?”

“Not yet,” Kihyun said as he entered the room and moved to the drawer find a change of clothes. He hadn’t even taken off his coat yet. “It might take a while, I’m making roasted pork.”

Hoseok tossed his head back and made a sound that was halfway between a groan and a moan. “Ugh, I haven’t eaten roasted anything in ages, and it already smells so good.”

Kihyun chuckled, something he didn’t have to fake, as he pulled a pair of soft trousers and a shirt from a drawer - it was one of Hyunwoo’s, old and worn, and Kihyun decided it would do; Hyunwoo never minded when himself or Hoseok wore his clothes and, quite frankly, Hyunwoo’s oversized clothes were the most comfortable. Kihyun felt like he deserved a little comfort. 

As he shed the clothes he’d been wearing, he felt eyes on him. He looked over his shoulder to find Hoseok watching him with a fond expression on his face, towel hanging from his head, and couldn’t help but smile at him.

“What?”

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” Hoseok said. “You’ve gotten prettier.”

Kihyun snorted and shook his head, slipping on his clean pants as he spoke. “I didn’t know consumption affected the eyesight.”

“I mean it,” he insisted.

“I know for a fact I haven’t gotten any ‘prettier’, I look as if I was ridden hard and put away wet,” Kihyun threw back matter-of-factly before he put on his shirt. He sighed with relief, feeling physically much better now that he was dressed in soft, comfortable clothes. Emotionally, not so much.

“You’re lucky I’m too weak to prove you wrong.”

Kihyun gave Hoseok an unimpressed look after putting his dirty clothes aside; their laundry basket was in the bathroom, so he would put them there once Hyunwoo was done bathing. For the moment, he walked over to Hoseok and began drying his hair properly with the already-damp towel, since Hoseok had done a terrible job of it.

“The fever really did a number on you, huh?” Kihyun quipped, and Hoseok let out a short chuckle through his nose. He smiled when Hoseok wrapped his arms around him, around his legs, and rested his head on his stomach.

“I miss being strong,” Hoseok murmured, rubbing his cheek on Kihyun’s body like an affectionate cat. “Remember when I could pick you up and carry you around?”

“_ Toss _ me around, you mean,” Kihyun corrected him, tone playful despite the melancholic feeling that settled in his chest. “You and Woo probably got a kick from throwing me around like a ragdoll, you did it so much.”

“I wish I could still do that.”

“You’ll be strong again, bunny,” Kihyun said, tossing the towel towards his small pile of laundry once he deemed Hoseok’s hair dry enough, before bending down to press a kiss to the top of his head. His hair smelled strongly of lavender soap. “It’ll take some work, but you can get your log-like arms back.”

Hoseok didn’t answer. Kihyun knew what was on his mind - he didn’t believe he would have the time to achieve that goal. He believed he would die soon, that Kihyun’s words were hollow.

Kihyun wanted to believe they weren’t. He wasn’t sure.

“I’ve missed you,” Hoseok whispered. Kihyun held him tight.

“I’ve missed you too,” he said against his hair. “You gave us quite the fright this time, bunny. I thought we would lose you.”

“I thought so as well,” Hoseok admitted, voice weak. “All I could think about was how I wanted you there next to me, but I knew I couldn’t risk you getting sick too.”

Kihyun pressed his lips together tight, tried not to think of the three vials hidden away in the kitchen. Three.

“I know,” he managed to say despite the lump clogging his throat. “I understand why you and Hyunwoo kept me away, but— bunny, it’s _ my _ choice. I want to be next to you when you need me, and you needed me and I couldn’t be here.”

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. “I think I’m only alive because I fought so hard to be with you again.”

Kihyun let out a chuckle that sounded more like a hiccup. “This is not the time to woo me.”

“I’m serious, Ki,” he said and looked up, eyes glistening with tears. “We’ve been trying so hard to keep you safe that we’re not noticing that we’re pushing you away instead and it’s been killing me. I couldn’t— I couldn’t go without telling you how sorry I am.”

“You’re not going anywhere, bunny,” Kihyun said, a bit desperately, and held him tighter. “Nobody's going anywhere.”

“I’ve hurt you so much when all I wanted was the best for you,” Hoseok continued, stumbling on his words. “I don’t want to die away from you, Ki.”

“You’re not going to,” Kihyun promised. “I’m here.” He pulled away so he could look right into Hoseok’s eyes when he said, “And you’re not going to die, not anytime soon.”

Hyungwon’s cure better work, or Kihyun would make it his life’s mission to kill him for it.

“I’ll try not to,” Hoseok said, clearly aiming to sound playful despite his tears.

Kihyun smiled at him and kissed him on the tip of his nose. “Now no more depressing thoughts, tonight’s dinner is meant to lift your spirits, not the opposite.”

“My spirits _ are _ lifted,” Hoseok said, sniffling and rubbing his eyes with his sleeves. “I’m just relieved.”

“So am I,” Kihyun murmured before hugging him again, and they stayed like that, holding each other in silence for several minutes.

That’s how Hyunwoo found them once he finally finished bathing and - to Kihyun’s relief - shaving. He watched them from a moment from the door before saying, “What happened to the quarantine zone?”

“I’ll tell you where you can shove your quarantine zone,” Kihyun snapped, giving him a sideways look.

Hyunwoo laughed, good-natured, and came closer to envelop both Kihyun and Hoseok in his arms, joining in their hug unprompted. Kihyun closed his eyes and smiled, letting that moment soothe the ache in his heart, ease the weight on his conscience. Whatever happened, _ this _ was worth it. It was worth his morals, it was worth his dignity, it was worth his very soul.

So much sadness and tragedy had happened to bring them together - Kihyun, whose mother passed away from an illness when he was around ten years old; Hyunwoo, who was sent to the orphanage after his own mother passed from complications after giving birth to him, his father unknown; and Hoseok, who was abandoned at the door of the orphanage as a baby, by parents who either didn’t want him or couldn’t care for him. They were raised through these tragedies and somehow overcame them, found happiness in each other. And now yet another set of tragedies wanted to tear them apart, and Kihyun refused to let it happen.

“If you two try to keep me away again, I swear I will stab both of you on a part of your body you really care about,” he threatened, even if his shaky voice made it sound less scary than it was supposed to sound.

Hyunwoo snorted and Kihyun felt him press a kiss to his temple. “We believe you.”

Then silence befell them again, warm and comfortable, and Kihyun indulged in it. It was so very rare these days, to be able to have both of them so close, to hold them both at the same time and have them hold him back. Given the opportunity, he would have stayed like that for hours, wrapped in both his lovers’ arms, but he still had food cooking and he didn’t want their dinner to be ruined; they could cuddle later.

If there was a later to be had.

“I have to check the roast,” Kihyun said, already moving to disentangle himself from the hug; his lovers reluctantly let him go.

“Do you need help?” Hyunwoo offered, to which Kihyun shook his head. He would have said yes any other time, but that night— he didn’t want Hyunwoo to accidentally stumble across the ‘miracle pouch’.

“I can handle it, love,” he said. Turning to Hoseok, he asked, “Want to wait in the living room, bunny?”

“Yes, please,” Hoseok replied. “I’ve been in this bedroom so long I don’t even remember what our living room looks like.”

Kihyun chuckled. “Now you’re just being dramatic. Come on, I’ll help you up.”

He held one of Hoseok’s hands and laced his free arm around his waist for support, keeping a firm grip on him when he pushed himself up from the bed. He staggered a bit, heaved a short puff of air with the effort, and slowly began shuffling out of the bedroom. Kihyun let him set the pace, didn’t rush him, allowing Hoseok to make as much effort as he felt comfortable with. Kihyun knew that he could lose his breath at times, that any physical strain could lead to trouble breathing, so he paid attention to any signs Hoseok was pushing himself too hard.

For all that he was stubborn, Hoseok had at least learned to respect his own limitations; they reached the living room with no problems, and Kihyun helped Hoseok to the recliner before draping the blanket that had been hanging on the back of the armchair nearby around his shoulders.

“There,” Kihyun declared with a smile. “Need anything? Water?”

“No, I’m alright,” Hoseok said, leaning back on the recliner as he looked up at Kihyun with warmth in his eyes. “I want to save up space in my stomach for dinner.”

“Drinking a glass of water would hardly ruin your appetite, but whatever you say,” Kihyun said and, after kissing him on the cheek, made his way to the kitchen. “Call me if you need me.”

From there, things proceeded rather smoothly. Hyunwoo took the chance Hoseok was nestled in the living room to clean up the bedroom a bit, change the bedsheets, open the window a little wider to let some fresh air in - Kihyun didn’t say anything, but he was quite pleased with Hyunwoo’s proactivity. He would express his appreciation later.

For the moment, he focused on making sure the food tasted as it should, lest his distraction culminated in a burnt or undercooked roast. It was enough that his heart had begun pounding again, harder and faster each minute that brought him closer to finishing his task.

His hands were shaking by the time the food was ready, something that took him some effort to conceal when he brought everything to the table. Hoseok, who had been dozing off in the recliner, must have smelled the meal’s approach for he instantly opened his eyes and sat up, craning his neck to see if his nose was not playing tricks on him. When he saw that the food was indeed ready, he made to scramble out of the recliner but Hyunwoo, thank heavens for him, was fast enough that he could help Hoseok to his feet before he tripped.

Kihyun laughed. “Easy, bunny, the food isn’t going anywhere.”

“It looks so good,” Hoseok said, eyes fixed on the roast that had, for Kihyun’s increased pride in his cooking skills, turned out perfect.

“Just get seated, I’ll be right back,” Kihyun said once he left the tray on the center of the table, then scurried back into the kitchen.

He had already opened the bottle of wine and fished three glasses from the cabinet while he waited for the meat to cook, so all he had to do was pour it. Trying to control the shaking of his hands, this time not to spill wine all over the kitchen, Kihyun served an appropriate amount of wine into each cup; it was deliberate. The less wine inside the cup, the more chances they would drink it all without question.

Then, he opened the drawer and pulled out the pouch, turned its contents onto his waiting palm.

He stared at the three vials for a moment. The liquid inside looked like clean water. It better not be just water. Putting them aside, Kihyun took one of them and opened the tiny cap. He brought it up to his nose and sniffed it - it smelled… flowery, in a way. Like a watered down flower essence of sorts. It certainly didn’t smell like any poison Kihyun ever encountered, and he had been around a fair amount of poisons during his contraband years. Cyanide, for example, could smell of almonds; arsenic, of garlic. There were poisons that smelled of vinegar, some that smelled like licorice. Flowers— yes, there were poisons that smelled of flowers, especially those made directly from flowers or herbs, but whatever was in that vial smelled closer to an ingredient used to flavor cakes and cookies than poison.

If Hyungwon gave him flower water—

Kihyun took a deep breath, insides turning with anxiety, and hesitantly brought the vial to his lips. He didn’t drink it - just tipped the tiny container enough that the liquid touched his tongue. He tasted it for a moment, a hitch between his brows; it tasted sweet. Like flowers, too, but sweeter. Again, that might be some type of food seasoning that Hyungwon added water to. He was inclined to believe it was the case.

As Kihyun didn’t immediately drop dead, he tossed back the rest of the liquid, as fast as possible not to give himself time to lose his nerve, and that would be the ultimate test. He held his breath, counted to ten, paid attention to how his body reacted to it.

Nothing.

Kihyun huffed, already planning to have words with Hyungwon about it, but— he did say it worked overnight. Maybe he just had to give it time. If nothing happened the next morning - if he woke up at all, that is - _ then _ he would have words with Hyungwon.

That he didn’t show any negative response to it right away served as a boost in confidence - he swiftly emptied the contents of each of the two remaining vials into the wine he’d poured for his loves, and, with a last deep breath, he took the glasses and walked back to the living room. They were both seated already, Hyunwoo at the head of the table and Hoseok to his left, the place at Hyunwoo’s right waiting for him; the way they usually sat when having dinners at an actual table was their normal. Kihyun’s heart clenched with nostalgia and joy at the sight.

“Here,” he said as he placed a cup in front of each of his lovers. “Let me just get my own cup and we can eat.”

“Just bring the whole bottle while you’re at it,” Hyunwoo suggested with a playful glint in his eyes, and Kihyun somehow managed to fake a convincing chuckle.

“As you wish.”

Kihyun took another deep breath to steel his nerves while in the kitchen, taking his own glass and the bottle of wine with him on his way back. It was good that they didn’t question why he didn’t bring the bottle with him from the start; it was also good he was able to keep his expression placid enough not to betray any feelings of ‘I-put-something-in-your-wine-that-may-or-may-not-be-poison’. If it was poison, at least none of them would be alive to deal with the aftermath.

They would sink or swim together. As always.

As Kihyun sat down on his chair, Hyunwoo raised his own cup as if angling to make a toast. Hoseok, who so far had been staring at the roasted pork as if in a trance, blinked up and scrambled to lift his own cup, and Kihyun calmly - on the outside - followed suit.

“What are we toasting to?” Kihyun asked.

Hyunwoo hummed in deep thought for a moment before saying. “To better days.”

Kihyun’s smile was genuine upon hearing the words, so was Hoseok’s.

“To better days,” Kihyun and Hoseok chimed in almost perfect synchronicity.

_ (“If doesn’t work, will I still owe you a favor?” _

_ “It will work.”) _

And so, all three of them drank the entire content of their glasses. Kihyun swallowed the wine along with the fear that had been clogging his throat.

_ (“And what is it that you will ask of me?” _

_ Hyungwon simply smiled.) _

To better days. If they even had any days ahead of them.

◦ ◦ ◦

The world was still and quiet as Hyungwon stood before the open window by the bed, watching the mists outside dance in the wind. The cameo was already warm to his touch, despite him having put it on just minutes before - the result of him constantly playing with it, rolling it between his fingers, thumb smoothing over the carved surface again and again.

Changkyun was sound asleep in their bed, in the main room, the canopy closed around him as if it were a shield, protecting him from the outside world. He would have no nightmares, not tonight - not ever again, if he had any say.

Hyungwon breathed in the cold night air, felt it fill his lungs. His body felt uncomfortable, an itch just under his skin, and he wanted nothing but to crawl out of it, to freedom, to relief, but his mind was calm. The calm of peace, of certainty. Even the spirits were quiet that night, as if sharing the anticipation thrumming through his bloodstream. 

The pieces were all in place. The game was set, the checkmate afoot. Him, the victor.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered to the pendant hanging from his neck, “tomorrow I finish what you— what _ we _started.”

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha, yeah... so who's suspicious of hyungwon, raise ya hands
> 
> anyone who's read my multi-chaptered fics before probably knows this already, but i'm the kind of person who doesn't like making my readers wait too long for finales, SO.
> 
> chapter 14 will be out tuesday, dec 10, and chapter 15 will be out the next friday, dec 13 (yes, we started on a friday the 13th, we're ending it on a friday the 13th). you can subscribe to get notified when the chapters go up in case you're worried you'll miss an update, but i think it won't be too confusing. i hope.
> 
> and that's it, two more chapters to go!  
as always, thanks for reading!♡


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for purging/throwing up and asphyxiation
> 
> enjoy!♡

◦

Kihyun startled awake with a sensation of burning in his throat - a burning not from heat, he realized very quickly, but from extreme cold. He coughed, choked, almost toppled out of the recliner where he’d been sleeping, and was present enough through the daze of sleep and the panic only to keep himself upright and rush to the kitchen, which seemed to him closer than the bathroom.

His primary thought was, as common sense dictated, that there had been something wrong with the food they consumed last night and he just had to purge the culprit and everything would be alright again.

He went straight to the sink and leaned over it, dry heaving for a few seconds before whatever it was that had been causing that irksome sensation was pushed out of him, up his throat and out of his mouth, and thumped heavily into the sink. He only remembered Hyungwon’s mysterious vials once he saw what he had just vomited against the stark white porcelain of the bottom of the sink.

What he registered first was the taste - foul, bitter, the most revolting taste his tongue ever had the displeasure of tasting. It smelled absolutely foul too, like rot, and those two aspects should have alarmed him enough, but the sight of it—

It  _ looked _ like a blood clot. It was not a blood clot. It was about half the size of his palm and black— no, it was much darker than black, and made of a strange substance that had a slippery, oil-like quality. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew he did  _ not _ want to find out.

He opened the tap with shaky, nervous hands, and watched as the strange mass slid slowly towards the drain, leaving behind an oily trail on the porcelain that the running water couldn’t wash off right away. Down the drain it went, and Kihyun hurried to wash his mouth and his hands, trying to rid himself of the taste and smell of that— thing.

As he stood there, shaking all over, heart hammering in his chest, skin coated with cold sweat, he began stringing his thoughts together.

_ It works overnight. _

_ You’ll know _ .

Was that—?

“Kihyun!”

He heard Hyunwoo’s urgent voice calling from the bedroom and startled, his mind so incredibly jumbled that he just stood frozen for a second, unable to react, before he snapped out of it and rushed to the bedroom. He assumed the worst from the very first second.

If Hoseok was dead, if Hyungwon had given them something that had gotten Hoseok killed, he would go all the way to the moor with the only purpose of strangling him with his own bare hands - and he would make it as slow and painful as possible.

Kihyun’s footsteps had never been particularly loud, but this time the fall of his feet thundered and echoed on the walls as he ran over across the living room and down the hall. Their apartment was small, yet it felt as if the hallway stretched infinitely in front of him, as if it was taking far too long to get to the bedroom.

“Is everything alright!?” he asked in an urgent tone before even reaching the door, and nearly tripped when he finally arrived at the threshold and saw what awaited him inside.

Hoseok and Hyunwoo, very much alive, looking lost and troubled, standing in the middle of the room and examining themselves. Kihyun spotted a dark oily smudge on Hyunwoo’s chin, the same oily substance staining the sleeve of Hoseok’s shirt and a bit of its collar. There was nothing on the floor, so Kihyun’s assumption was that, if they had thrown up that strange matter too, it had been into the small trash bin they kept near the bed.

He made a passing mental note to himself to set that bin on fire later.

They both looked over at him at the same time, and Kihyun felt as if struck by lightning - there was color in their cheeks, vibrancy in their eyes; Hoseok still looked dangerously skinny, but he— he looked fine. Not weak. Keeping himself upright with ease. Not standing at death’s door. And Hyunwoo— strong. Not fatigued, not slumped forward as if he was holding the entire world on his back.

Alive. Not sick.

A miracle.

Kihyun’s knees buckled then, with shock, with relief, and he let himself fall to the ground, head bowed, and all the worry that had been eating away at him for the past few years erupted out of him in the form of tears and sobs and pitiful hiccups. He heard them rushing over and then a pair of arms - Hyunwoo’s - around him, followed by Hoseok’s arms who had come to envelop him from his other side. 

Tears spilled from his eyes just as words spilled from his lips - a litany of  _ it worked, it worked, it really worked  _ \- and he grabbed at his lovers, held them close to him, as if everything would go to pieces if he let them go.

“Ki, what happened?” Hoseok asked, alarmed. “Are you alright?”

“I did it,” he said between sobs, his words slurred and likely not intelligible at all, “I did it, I—”

“Kihyun,” Hyunwoo called, and Kihyun felt his large hands framing his face carefully, coaxing him to look up. He did. His face seemed blurry through the tears, but Kihyun forced himself to focus on him regardless. “What did you do?”

He didn’t acknowledge the question, instead turning to Hoseok, raising a hand to his face. Speaking was hard, but after taking a steadying breath, he asked, “How do you feel?”

“I feel—” Hoseok started, a hitch appearing between his brows. His eyes were shiny with tears, too. “I feel fine, I feel— Ki, how—”

Kihyun sniffed and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, a brittle smile on his lips. It worked. The cure worked, so that meant— that meant he had to pay the price.

He had to return the favor.

“Kihyun, what did you do? What is happening?” Hyunwoo insisted, more firmly this time around.

Kihyun closed his eyes, a wry chuckle of disbelief escaping his throat as he thought of the best way to answer that question. When he finally did, the words came not as a reply, but a confession, a trembling whisper that spoke of dread, but not regret. Never regret.

“I think I made a deal with the Devil.”

◦ ◦ ◦

If there was one thing Changkyun had gotten used to, it was touching Hyungwon in some way as they slept. They had a tendency to fall asleep in each other’s arms but, as the night progresses, they will move and roll around, oftentimes away from each other, as is only natural. Whenever that happened, one of them would reach for the other, be it to hold his hand or just shift closer until their legs were touching under the blankets.

That being the case, waking up feeling Hyungwon pressed against him was not strange. On the contrary - if he had woken up without any point of contact between him and his lover,  _ then _ he would have been alarmed from the very start. As it was, it took him a second to notice something was amiss.

Hyungwon was curled up against him, knees drawn in towards his stomach, forehead pressed on Changkyun’s shoulder, and his breathing was— shallow. Changkyun blinked rapidly to chase away the remnants of sleep from his eyes and turned fully towards Hyungwon, bringing a hand up to his shoulder.

“Wonnie?” he called, voice soft. Hyungwon didn’t react. He shook him gently, trying to get him to respond or move, even if just to make him raise his head. “Wonnie, what’s wrong?”

Hyungwon curled in closer to him, a barely-there whimper escaping his lips. Changkyun pushed himself up just as the hand that had been on Hyungwon’s shoulder moved up to brush the hair away from his eyes - he had them shut tight, as if avoiding something. Light, Changkyun was quick to deduce.

A headache. One of the very bad ones.

Before he had the time to react further, he jumped with the fright caused by the loud, obnoxious sound of sudden pounding on their bedroom door.

“Hyungwon!” came Guhn’s voice, sounding angry as Changkyun had never heard him sound before. “Hyungwon, open this door  _ now!” _

Hyungwon whimpered again and brought both hands up to cover his own ears, curling further against Changkyun as if trying to defend himself from the sound with his entire body. Changkyun joined in on the effort, using his own hand to cover the ear Hyungwon didn’t have pressed against the pillow, atop Hyungwon’s own hand - an added obstacle any noise would have to get through to bother him.

Guhn continued to pound on the door, so hard Changkyun had no doubt in his mind that the man had every intention of breaking it down with his fists if needed.

“Hyungwon!” Guhn continued to call. “If you don’t open this door right now you’ll be sorry!”

Changkyun found himself caught between a rock and a hard place. He didn’t want to leave Hyungwon’s side, but he also didn’t want to get into a shouting match with Guhn and make his headache worse, and he certainly didn’t want to open the door. Yet, allowing Guhn to continue to bang on the door would cause Hyungwon even more pain.

If he wanted to get Guhn to leave, he would have to open the door - not to let him in, but to convince him to let go of whatever crusade he was on this early in the morning.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself, looking from Hyungwon to the door and back again to Hyungwon. “I’ll go see what he wants.”

“Don’t,” he heard Hyungwon murmur in response, but it was either that or let Guhn pound away at the door indefinitely. Changkyun cursed under his breath again, hating to go against Hyungwon’s plea but seeing no other way out.

Later, he would regret not carrying Hyungwon away to his bedroom first, regret not adding the safety of the two doors of the bathroom between him and Guhn before he dealt with him, but the idea didn’t cross his mind at the moment, as he got up from their bed and shuffled towards the entrance - at least he had slept with his pants on the night before. Opening the door in the nude would have been a terrible experience.

Things escalated very fast from the moment he unlocked the door.

He was expecting to be able to hold the door mostly closed, only speak to Guhn through a small crack and have it be enough, but Guhn had other ideas. The second Changkyun opened the door, Guhn was already pushing his way inside despite Changkyun’s desperate attempt to keep him from entering. He bodily blocked the way, tried to push the door closed once again, but Guhn was stronger - much stronger than Changkyun had expected him to be.

“Out of my way!” Guhn demanded, along with a string of very colorful curses and threats that Changkyun didn’t pay any mind to. The shouting match he’d wanted to avoid was, in the end, unavoidable, as he felt the need to shout at Guhn to leave, only to be heard over Guhn’s own raised voice.

All to no avail.

Guhn was livid - Changkyun had seen the man angry before, but not like that. It was as if he’d been possessed by a spirit of rage, his wrath so strong it felt like a physical presence. He had never feared Guhn, not truly - he was wary of him, cautious, suspicious, but not afraid.

Not until that moment, faced with him in that state of madness.

He would not even be surprised if the man started foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog.

Changkyun fought him back for as long as he could, withstanding Guhn’s powerful shoves until he could no longer do so; with one particularly strong push, Guhn sent Changkyun stumbling backwards until his back hit the edge of the drawer behind him with force enough that he saw stars of pain behind his eyelids. He coughed and tried to keep himself upright, at the same time as Guhn rushed by him, into the room and towards Hyungwon, before he could recover from the blow.

It all happened in a time span that couldn’t have been longer than ten, maybe fifteen seconds. Before Changkyun could get his bearings and react, he heard the bedsprings creak and turned towards the sound, and panic immediately set in at the sight of Guhn easily and forcefully removing Hyungwon from his fetal position, all so he could grab him by the neck and press him against the mattress, trying to strangle him.

Hyungwon barely struggled in his weakened state, managing only a few feeble attempts at pushing Guhn’s hands away from him, his eyes cloudy and half-lidded with pain as he stared up at Guhn’s enraged countenance.

“What did you do!?” Guhn demanded, his hold on Hyungwon’s neck firm and strong. Hyungwon didn’t reply. “What did you do, demon!?”

Changkyun hadn’t completely recovered, but adrenaline had him moving again despite his not being ready for a fight yet. He went straight for Guhn, his only goal to pull him away from Hyungwon.

“Let go of him!” he shouted, grasping Guhn by the arm as soon as he was able to reach him and pulling with all his might. Guhn barely reacted to his attempt, jerking his arm free and pushing him away with his free hand with surprising ease.

He completely ignored Changkyun. “What have you done!?” he continued shouting at Hyungwon. “I’ve received a missive from the bank saying my vault has been completely emptied! What have you done!?”

Hyungwon, again, didn’t answer - he only stared up at Guhn, defiant even through the pain. Changkyun lunged towards Guhn once more, this time trying to get between him and Hyungwon, but Guhn didn’t give him an opening; he blocked him with one arm, while his other hand was still attached to Hyungwon’s neck. Changkyun felt a bubble of panic swell and burst inside of him, certain that this was it, that Guhn was about to kill Hyungwon, and forced himself to change his tactics.

He ran towards his own room, as fast as his feet could carry him, and went straight to his desk. He turned over all the items there, paying no mind to the many things that fell to the floor, until he found what he’d been looking for - a letter opener, simple and mostly blunt, but the sharpest object he had on hand. It would have to do.

He hurried back, a fear of primal proportions gripping at his heart, fear that he was too late, but Hyungwon was still alive, still glaring up at Guhn and with his mouth firmly shut. Through the lens of fear, Changkyun almost thought Hyungwon was trying to bite back a taunting smile.

“I don’t know what you aim to accomplish with this, but I  _ will _ make sure you pay back every penny and more!” Guhn was hissing at Hyungwon. “You think you are beyond reproach, don’t you? You too will fall and face your punishment much like Lucifer himself, fiend.” There was a mad quality to Guhn’s ravings, one that became even more pointed as he cited the words, “You were perfect in your ways from the day you were created, until wickedness was found in you.”

Again, Changkyun thought he saw Hyungwon smile - he figured he was misinterpreting a grimace of pain. Hyungwon had no reason to smile, not with Guhn hissing scripture at his face while trying to choke him like a lunatic.

This time, Changkyun succeeded in wedging himself between Guhn and Hyungwon, raising the letter opener until it was level with the man’s neck. That finally got Guhn to let go of Hyungwon and step back, to keep himself away from the pointy end of Changkyun’s impromptu weapon. He heard Hyungwon cough, felt him move on the bed behind him, while Guhn glared at him, eyes bloodshot and expression contorted into a disdainful sneer.

“What are you going to do, mutt?” Guhn asked. “Stab me with the letter opener?”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do, now get out,” Changkyun replied, his grip on the wooden handle firm for all that the rest of his body was shaking. As Guhn didn’t move, he snarled, “Get out!”

Guhn stared at him for a moment longer, then his eyes fell on Hyungwon once again. “I’m going to town to try and resolve the issue. You better pray to your lucky stars I am successful.”

And with that, Guhn shot Changkyun one last hateful glare and turned around, stalking out of the room without looking back.

Changkyun didn’t waste time; he rushed to close and lock the door again, going as far as dragging a chair and using its back to jam the handle, before he returned to Hyungwon’s side, the letter opener still clutched in his hand. Everything felt like a fever dream, as if his actions were disconnected from his thoughts, like his body was moving because it had to and not for any presence of mind. He was acting on instinct alone, head empty of anything other than a high-pitched sound caused by fear.

It was not the time to have a nervous meltdown, though.

“Are you alright?” he asked once he reached Hyungwon, who by then had managed to push himself up to a sitting position, one hand massaging his neck, his head bowed. Hyungwon nodded briefly in response. “Let me see.”

He carefully coaxed Hyungwon into lifting his head, a spark of pure hatred igniting in his heart at the sight of the redness left behind around Hyungwon’s neck, the clear shape of Guhn’s fingers on his skin. He nearly growled with unbridled rage, and pulled Hyungwon into his arms protectively. Hyungwon went easily, almost limply, and rested his head on his chest; Changkyun could feel him shaking, could feel his erratic breathing, and he thought himself a complete failure.

He almost lost him. He almost lost Hyungwon because he was not ready. He expected Guhn to act against Hyungwon at some point, but he wasn’t expecting him to do so in broad daylight, with Changkyun as a witness, and in such a reckless, crude manner as trying to strangle him. He should have been ready. He should have had a better weapon within reach, he should have taken further measures to ensure their safety, he should have— 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured, lips pressed to the top of Hyungwon’s head. “I won’t let him lay a hand on you again, I promise.” He felt Hyunwon hug him back, felt him lean a bit heavier against him; if he’d been a second too late—

“I’m alright,” he heard Hyungwon whisper, voice rough. He held him tighter. “I’m alright, I just— just need a moment.”

“I got you, love. I got you,” Changkyun said and pressed a long kiss to his temple. “Take all the time you need.”

The silence that followed felt eerie, ominous, out of place after all the shouting. Changkyun simply held Hyungwon close, protective as protective could be, his mind whirring.

He couldn’t protect him. He wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t smart enough, not like he thought he was. For all that he envisioned himself Hyungwon’s knight in shining armor, he was far too weak to make a difference - if Guhn wanted to kill Hyungwon, he would. Changkyun’s presence wouldn’t matter.

He would probably end up dead, too.

There was only one solution he could see.

For the time being, though, all he did was hold Hyungwon close, allowing them both a chance to calm down. Several minutes passed like that, with them holding each other in complete silence, silence which was only broken by the faraway sound of a carriage leaving the grounds. Changkyun stepped away from Hyungwon for a moment so he could look out the window to confirm it - Guhn had left the mansion, his personal carriage rolling steadily down the main path. They were safe. For now.

Changkyun let out a breath of relief and returned to Hyungwon’s side, just then dropping the letter opener on the nightstand. “He’s gone.”

Hyungwon nodded to agree. “Yes. He won’t be back until sunset, at the very least.”

“Good. How are you feeling?”

“It feels as if my skull is about to split in half.”

Changkyun let out a curse under his breath and hurried around the room to close all curtains, kill all the lights, including in the bathroom and his own bedroom. He’d forgotten Hyungwon had a bad migraine on top of everything else; he was failing so much that day.

No more.

Once he was done, a lone candle in the bathroom now the only source of light, he returned to Hyungwon’s side to help him up.

“I’ll run you a bath, then go ask Kyla to make you some tea,” he said in a low voice as Hyungwon staggered to his feet, leaning heavily against him. Hyungwon just gave him a brief nod to agree with his suggestion.

He guided him to the bathroom, helped him sit down on a nearby stool, and set about filling up the tub with warm water. That done, he moved to the cabinet where Hyungwon kept his bath oils and salts, rummaging through them in search of the correct one for the current situation.

His hands were still shaking, that high-pitched noise still ringing in his eardrums, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to hide it from Hyungwon. Worrying him further was out of the question.

He searched about for a particular bath oil Hyungwon mentioned was supposed to lessen headaches, but in his frazzled state of mind, he could hardly make sense of the letters, all of them appearing jumbled to his eyes. He couldn’t even tell what was in the bottles, his vision dancing before him - that, he blamed on the lack of sleep.

“Which one is for headaches?” he asked once he admitted to himself he couldn’t remember.

“Rosemary.”

He looked around the bottles a bit more until he spotted the one Hyungwon had named and hurried to drop a healthy amount of it inside the tub. The smell of rosemary filled the bathroom in a matter of seconds.

He heard Hyungwon let out a breathy chuckle, likely amused by his fumbling attempts at being helpful. Before he had time to figure out how to react to it, Hyungwon was already extending a hand towards him, inviting him to come closer.

Changkyun sighed and left the bottle of rosemary oil atop the counter before making his way over to Hyungwon, taking his hand and allowing him to pull him near.

“I’m alright, Kyun,” said Hyungwon, a clear attempt to mollify him - it didn’t work. Hyungwon didn’t look ‘alright’. He looked quite the opposite, slumped on the stool and resting against the wall, eyes barely open. He looked like a broken doll.

Changkyun didn’t reply. Instead, he reached for Hyungwon’s jaw and gently tipped his head up, the faint light of the candle still enough to see the deplorable state of his throat. The skin there was still red, and now he could spot a few scratches here and there, bloomed some time in the last few minutes - Guhn had been wearing gloves. To actually manage to scratch Hyungwon through the fabric of his gloves spoke volumes of how much he’d wanted to harm him.

Wrath coiled in his chest. He forced himself to ignore it, focus on Hyungwon instead.

“Your poor neck,” Changkyun lamented, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb on the side of Hyungwon’s neck, where most of the damage was.

“I’m fine,” Hyungwon said, more firmly this time. “I’m sure it seems worse than it feels.”

“Wonnie, he tried to strangle you.”

“Mhm, and you stopped him.”

“Not soon enough.” Changkyun pulled Hyungwon to himself again, and he was slowly realizing it was more for his own benefit than Hyungwon’s. He just needed him close. “I should have listened to you and not opened the door.”

“There is no point in dwelling on it now, baby,” Hyungwon said, arms thrown loosely around Changkyun’s middle. “Regret doesn’t change anything and you did the best you could. I’m still alive, you’re still alive. Focus on that instead.”

Changkyun wanted to say so much. He wanted to express how fearful he’d been, how he believed for a moment that he was truly going to lose Hyungwon. He didn’t - Hyungwon was in pain and still shaken up by what had just happened. He didn’t need to bear the burden of Changkyun’s feelings as well as his own, at least not at the moment. He needed calm and he needed quiet.

So he took a deep breath and buried those feelings down deeper - at least for the moment.

He pressed a kiss to Hyungwon’s forehead, ran a hand through his hair, and stepped back. “You’re right,” he said, and tugged on Hyungwon’s hand to prompt him to get up. “I’ll help you undress.”

Hyungwon shot him a suspicious glance through heavy-lidded eyes but didn’t try to argue, simply getting up and letting Changkyun remove his clothes. “I have a terrible headache but I am still capable of undressing on my own.”

“Just give me this.”

Hyungwon sighed and agreed with a nod, quietly going along with his whims - undressing him, then leading him to the tub, then washing his hair and his back, then rubbing the abused muscles on his neck with lavender oil. He knew he didn’t have to do any of it; Hyungwon, as he said himself, was capable of bathing on his own.

Changkyun felt like he needed to do it, though, to ease his own mind. Small acts of contrition for his failings, even if Hyungwon never asked for any of it. Even if Hyungwon didn’t blame him.

He blamed himself enough for both of them.

“I should go ask Kyla to prepare your tea,” he said after a long stretch of silence, and Hyungwon hummed to assent, eyes closed. He seemed much calmer now, his trembling subsided at last. “Is there something you’d like to eat for breakfast?”

“I’m not very hungry. Just the tea is enough.”

“Very well,” he said and, pressing one last kiss to Hyungwon’s forehead, Changkyun got up from where he’d been kneeling on the floor by the bathtub. He reached for a towel hanging on a nearby hook to dry his hands. “I’ll lock the door on my way out, so you can relax for a while longer.”

“Alright.”

He made to leave, but stopped again and returned to Hyungwon’s side, only to kiss him briefly on the lips and say, “I love you.”

Hyungwon smiled at him, a tiny little thing but genuine nonetheless. “I love you too, Kyunie.”

He shot Hyungwon one last smile and made his way back to their bedroom, only stopping to scoop up the shirt he’d discarded the night before from the floor and slipping it on before leaving. He removed the chair that had been jamming the door, took his keys from the nightstand, and made sure the door was properly locked once he stepped out. Only when he was sure nobody could get in - not without breaking the door down, and it was a sturdy door - did he rush downstairs to the kitchen.

He hardly felt the temperature of the floor under his bare feet, didn’t register the cold wind hitting his skin through the thin fabric of his clothes as he blurred through the mansion’s mighty halls. His mind was moving too fast, his thoughts far more important than trivialities such as temperature.

He was still reeling when he reached the kitchen, finding the staff there already setting up their stations for the day. They all stopped and looked him, instantly becoming alarmed - he never went to the kitchen in the morning dressed in his sleeping clothes and looking as if he’d just survived a hurricane, so their reaction was not out of place.

“Goodness, child, what happened to you!?” Mrs. Kim asked in an urgent tone. 

Changkyun stammered for a moment, having some trouble stringing two thoughts together, before he finally managed to speak. “I’m fine, just—” He turned to Kyla. “Can you please make Hyungwon some tea? The strongest one you have.”

Kyla nodded, looking rather stunned. “Y-yes, right away. Bad headache?”

“The worst.” Turning back to Mrs. Kim, he added, “No need to prepare breakfast, neither of us is hungry this morning.”

That surprised all of the women - both Changkyun himself and Hyungwon were not known to skip meals. In fact, they might even eat too much.

Still, Mrs. Kim nodded to assent to his request. “V-very well, no breakfast then.”

“Thank you,” he said and began moving to leave, when his eyes fell on a large silver knife resting on a nearby table.

_ Take it _ , his mind urged, and he was tempted to do so. Having a knife would make it easier to defend Hyungwon if Guhn came back, but— no, a knife was not the best for that particular job. A knife required proximity. If it happened again, if Guhn attacked Hyungwon while Changkyun was standing somewhere out of reach, he would waste too much time to get to them and make use of the knife.

He tore his gaze away and, after excusing himself, hurried out of the kitchens back the way he came, to the rotunda and up the stairs. He didn’t go back to his bedroom, though. He went up, to Hyungwon’s study.

Hyungwon had a full cabinet of potentially deadly substances. Certainly he could procure something, slip it into Guhn’s wine— no, poison  _ all _ the casks of wine in the cellar. Guhn was, for all intents and purposes, the only one who drank it regularly. Poisoning the wine was a sure way to get to him.

But no. There was no guarantee he would drink the wine before his next attempt against Hyungwon’s life. It would have to be something faster, something more practical. Halfway up the stairs to the third floor, Changkyun stopped and went back down to the second floor, to Guhn’s study.

Guhn kept his collection of firearms there. If he could break into the room, he could steal one of Guhn’s prized pistols and use it against him - poetic justice.

Changkyun was far past the point of caring if he would be caught in the act of trying to break into Guhn’s office. He turned the handle and tried to push the door open, just to test how strong was the lock, without any concern for how loud he was being. He tried to slam himself against the wood, but that door was as sturdy as the door in Hyungwon’s room, as sturdy as every other door in the mansion.

He cursed to himself and stepped back to stare at the door. Perhaps he could remove the hinges to gain access. Or he could find something hard and heavy and use it to break the lock. He didn’t think he had enough strength to kick the door down, but he could try that as well.

_ And then what _ , he asked himself in thoughts. He would break in, and then how would he get to the weapons? Guhn kept them inside a locked cabinet, unloaded, and he had no idea where he kept the ammunition. Likely in his vault, to which he didn’t know the combination.

In fact, he didn’t have the first clue how to even  _ use _ a firearm.

Not that it seemed to be that hard - just point and shoot.

Still, he would have no use for a firearm that had no ammunition.

He gave the door an angry kick and cursed again, running both hands through his hair out of pure frustration. Maybe he should return to the kitchen and get that knife after all, although he was not looking forward to trying to explain to Mrs. Kim why he needed to take one of her very sharp knives away.

And then, as if a holy light from above shone inside his brain, he remembered something Hyungwon had mentioned to him the day before.

‘K’.

Kihyun.

Kihyun sold firearms.

He would go to Kihyun and buy a pistol. Yes. Perfect. Genius.

...he had no idea where to find Kihyun, though. 

Hyungwon had mentioned something about the docks, so Kihyun must work or reside somewhere near the docks, along the river. The river was quite long, though.

It was a long shot, but Changkyun figured Hyungwon must have his address somewhere. They exchanged messages in the past, so certainly he had the means to contact him, and if he had that information, then it would be in his study.

Changkyun didn’t waste time to think that new idea through and simply turned on his heels and ran up the stairs to the third floor, barreling down the corridor to Hyungwon’s study. He fished the small bundle of keys from his pocket, almost dropping it several times in his haste, and let himself in. He didn’t bother closing the door behind himself before rushing to the desk to begin his frantic search.

He looked through several notebooks, Hyungwon’s journal, slips of paper, anything that had something scribbled on it. He was very close to giving up when, upon lifting one of Hyungwon’s poetry books, a folded piece of paper fell to the ground. He scrambled to pick it up and sagged with relief when he opened it. Kihyun’s name was written there, as was the address to a warehouse by the river.

It was a good plan. It was going to work. He would linger at the mansion for a while, at least until he was certain Hyungwon was feeling better, then he would get the money he’d been saving, hop on one of their horses, trek all the way to the docks to find Kihyun and convince him to sell him a pistol and ammunition, and luckily return before Guhn did.

Yes.

As he began making his way out, Changkyun’s eyes fell on the tarot deck sitting atop the table. He bit his lips, glanced at the open door; it felt silly, and yet—

He decided to try. Hyungwon read the cards whenever he needed guidance, so maybe they could help him, too.

Changkyun took a deep breath and spread the cards in an arch on the table, the same way he’d seen Hyungwon do so many times. He then closed his eyes, and focused on his dilemma, on his plan. On Hyungwon and Guhn, on himself, on their future.

He reached for the cards without opening his eyes, only doing so once he had chosen one of them. Changkyun scoffed to himself as he dropped his card on the table.

Death.

“Sounds about right,” he murmured to no one in particular as he made his way out.

◦ ◦ ◦

Hyungwon had his eyes on the ceiling above the bathtub, ears easily picking up the sounds of Changkyun running around in his study upstairs. A smile slowly crept upon his face.

All according to plan.

He felt confident, yet cautious. He didn’t want to start celebrating yet, didn’t want to get reckless now that the finish line was so close. He couldn’t slip up now, couldn’t risk Changkyun becoming suspicious - if he started showcasing his excitement, Changkyun might notice he didn’t really have a headache, for one.

He still had a long day ahead of him. Letters to write, arrangements to make. A stage to set.

He let himself sink into the now lukewarm water of the bathtub. Better finish up his bath quick.

◦ ◦ ◦

Jooheon felt so warm and comfortable he would believe himself inside a dream had he not already gotten up from his bed that morning. That he got back to bed after getting up once spoke volumes of how persuasive Minhyuk could be - and he didn’t mind that at all.

They had woken up fairly early, had breakfast, and then, instead of going out in search of a job as was the plan, Minhyuk convinced him to get back to bed and take the day off. His reluctance to agree was short-lived, and there he was, back in bed, Minhyuk wrapped around him like a particularly snuggly koala, exchanging kisses and playful banter, and it all felt— surreal.

It hadn’t really sunk in yet in his mind that Minhyuk was really there. That Minhyuk wanted to be with him. That Minhyuk loved him.

Minhyuk was nosing at the side of his neck absently, causing Jooheon to shiver at times, while Jooheon himself was playing with the hair at Minhyuk’s nape, twirling the locks between his fingers. He felt cozy and safe and warm, and he had to admit that staying home for the day was a great idea.

He felt like he understood Changkyun’s obsession with Hyungwon a little better now - he, too, would rather spend all his time with Minhyuk than do anything else. It made him happy being around Minhyuk, and when he wasn’t near him, he felt as if there was a piece of him missing; the way Changkyun behaved when he began his affair with Hyungwon was not too far off from what Jooheon was now experiencing, even if his case was not as— well. Creepy.

The whole thing between Changkyun and Hyungwon could only be described as creepy. Hyungwon himself could only be described as creepy, so it was logical that anything related to Hyungwon would be just as creepy.

Sure, he had learned that Hyungwon was not  _ that _ bad, but he still didn’t trust him completely, and he never would - seeing Changkyun the day before only added to that distrust. Something was wrong with his best friend, and he was willing to bet anything that Hyungwon was the culprit.

And yes, Minhyuk could work as a medium, but he was nothing like Hyungwon. Minhyuk had already admitted he had no supernatural powers - a great thing, in Jooheon’s opinion - and he was far more transparent with his motivations than Hyungwon. Minhyuk wasn’t manipulative like Hyungwon, and while he could be shrewd if needed, his intentions were clearly good - Minhyuk was a good person. He didn’t know if the same could be said about Hyungwon.

So while there were  _ some _ parallels there, it was not the same thing. Jooheon was still certain Hyungwon was secretly a witch and that Changkyun was under a spell.

Jooheon was not under a spell. Not even close. He’d fallen for Minhyuk naturally, throughout a much more appropriate span of time than— what, five seconds? A romantic he was, yes, but even he felt as if ‘love at first sight’ was a far-fetched notion.

Still, he could understand the so-called ‘honeymoon phase’ now.

Minhyuk squeezed him a little harder where he had his arms wrapped around his middle. “You’re so huggable,” he mumbled against the side of his neck, sounding half-asleep so relaxed he was. “Huggable honey.”

Jooheon snorted at the strange comment. “I’m glad you think so, it would be awkward if you didn’t.”

Minhyuk hummed and grumbled something he couldn’t understand, which only made Jooheon laugh, infinitely fond. He loved him - he truly did love him, and Minhyuk loved him back, and it was so difficult to wrap his head around it after so long believing he was not good enough. Yes, he still didn’t think he was good enough, but being there, in Minhyuk’s arms, was slowly changing his mind.

Maybe he could be enough.

He shivered when Minhyuk pressed his lips to a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, sighing with contentment. He snuggled closer to him, feeling almost boneless in his state of comfort; while his body was entirely relaxed, however, Jooheon’s mind was in a flurry of activity.

The awful feeling that had moved in the day prior when he said goodbye to Changkyun was still firmly rooted to the pit of his stomach, tying his insides into knots. Something was wrong. Something was epically wrong, and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to lose his best friend, didn’t want to leave him in a situation that could be harmful, but without knowing what was happening, how could he help? Changkyun was not being forthcoming with his problems, and he never took kindly to meddling. Jooheon couldn’t insert himself in a situation he didn’t even know the context of.

He couldn’t remove Changkyun from said situation either, not when Changkyun himself didn’t want to remove himself from it. Forcing him to leave the mansion, leave Hyungwon, would only result in Changkyun hating him.

If he could turn back time, stop them from meeting, then maybe things would have been better.

Then again, how different would their lives be had Changkyun not met Hyungwon? Would Jooheon be with Minhyuk? In a way, Minhyuk’s vendetta against Hyungwon had played a part in their relationship. Without Hyungwon in the picture to force Minhyuk to face his inner demons, he would likely not have ever accepted that he was falling for him. He would not have decided to stay and give their relationship a chance. He would not have moved in, since Changkyun would still be living at the apartment.

For all that Hyungwon’s presence bothered him, Jooheon had to admit that him being there allowed for some very good changes in his life. He would probably never trust Hyungwon, but he was not prideful enough to deny that he had his qualities.

Still… there was something wrong.

Something was wrong about Hyungwon, something was wrong about the entire situation.

He felt Minhyuk poke at his cheek with the tip of his nose, a loving way to catch his attention, before saying, “You’re still worried about Changkyun, aren’t you?”

That brought Jooheon back to reality very fast. He should have expected Minhyuk to be able to guess what was bothering him, being observant as he was.

He shifted in Minhyuk’s embrace, cuddled closer to him, searching for a comfort mere physical contact could not provide. He needed peace of mind. He needed to know Changkyun was - and would continue to be - alright. He could not have that, so Minhyuk’s embrace would have to suffice.

It did help that it was a very comfortable embrace.

“I am,” he admitted in a low voice. “I have a very bad feeling. The way he hugged me before he left—”

“Yeah, I noticed that too,” Minhyuk murmured as he rested his chin on his shoulder to look up at him. “Maybe we should raid the mansion after all.”

Jooheon let out a soft chuckle. “Maybe. Even if we have to bring Hyungwon along, it’s still better than leaving Kyun there.”

“If we had to bring the scarecrow along, we could at least keep an eye on him,” Minhyuk said, then gasped as if realizing something. “I could interrogate him!”

Jooheon simply sighed. “Bad idea.”

“Why?”

“Changkyun wouldn’t let you, and Hyungwon would find a way to turn the interrogation on you.”

Minhyuk made a face. “Damn. You’re right.”

Jooheon chuckled before pressing a kiss to Minhyuk’s temple, trying to cheer him up a bit. “Why are you so intent on ruining his reputation?”

“Because he ruined mine!”

Jooheon arched an eyebrow at him. “Minhyukie… I mean this in the best way possible, but… you didn’t really have the best reputation even before Hyungwon came along.”

Minhyuk made an outraged noise that sounded a lot like a bird squawking, opening and closing his mouth several times as if in a loss for words before finally clamping it shut and huffing through his nose. “Fine. You may have a point.”

Jooheon giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, mostly to placate him a bit before saying, “Are you sure you’re not so set in getting revenge on him because he announced you were in love to everyone?”

Minhyuk bristled again but said between gritted teeth, “No, that is not it at all.”

“Because you were in love with me and trying to lie to yourself,” Jooheon singsonged as he nuzzled Minhyuk’s neck.

“That’s not the reason—!” Minhyuk protested, but it came out weak. After only a few seconds, he sighed, defeated, and said, “Fine, maybe it was. A little bit.”

“A little bit?” Jooheon echoed teasingly.

“A little bit,” Minhyuk repeated. “He exposed a lot of my insecurities, though, it wasn’t just the one thing.”

“Hm,” Jooheon hummed, considering it for a moment. “Like the scar?”

Minhyuk’s gaze flitted away and he gave a short nod. “Like the scar.”

Jooheon watched Minhyuk’s face for a moment, insides turning with anger for something he could not change - yet another thing he could not change. That he could not fix.

He had heard enough to piece together what happened - a past lover, likely one Minhyuk met during his days working as a telegram boy, who started off treating him lovingly and then took a turn to violence. Jealousy, possessiveness, a need to control, all of which Minhyuk now tried to avoid. The reason why he was so intent on denying his feelings for so long, his insistence in keeping all his relationships casual, with no strings attached.

Whoever it was, he tried to smother Minhyuk - Minhyuk, who was open and friendly and full of energy, who marched to the beat of his own drum, who followed his heart. To try and trap someone like Minhyuk— it was nothing short of criminal, and that would be true even without the physical abuse he had suffered. 

He held Minhyuk tight, pressed a kiss to his forehead. It occurred to him to say something, reassure him somehow, but he decided against it - Minhyuk didn’t like to acknowledge that topic, so the best he could do was— breeze past it. He would reassure him with actions, not words, and that he would only achieve with time.

For the moment, he simply changed the focus of the conversation. “I guess it also didn’t help that he told everyone you don’t believe in the paranormal.”

Minhyuk glanced at him with an odd look in his eyes - he likely noticed what he was doing. He said nothing about it, though, just went along with it.

“It  _ definitely _ didn’t help,” he agreed. “My number of customers decreased a lot after that night.”

“Does it still matter, though? You’re not with the circus anymore, you’re on your own with a new clientele.”

“It’s a matter of pride, Honey!”

Jooheon opened his mouth to argue but ended up closing it again after half a second. It felt pointless to insist on something Minhyuk was so sure of, so defensive about. Another parallel Minhyuk had with Hyungwon - a wall of pride too high to scale. He might as well be butting heads with a block of cement.

“I think you should let it go,” he said, at last. Advice was better than downright arguing. “Occupy your time with worthier things.”

“Such as my Honey?” Minhyuk asked in a cutesy voice, which, oddly enough, made Jooheon giggle and use the same cutesy tone when he answered.

“Such as your Honey!”

Minhyuk squealed - literally squealed. “You’re so cute!” He then proceeded to pepper kisses all over Jooheon’s face, which was not unpleasant in the slightest. Once he settled back down, he sighed and said, “You’re right, though. I may or may not have used Hyungwon as a distraction from my personal issues - though you have to agree that there’s something off about him.”

“You’ll get no argument from me, he’s creepy,” Jooheon said, cuddling closer to Minhyuk. He ended up halfway on top of him, head atop his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He closed his eyes, focused on the sound, willed it to soothe the burning anxiety in his chest. It didn’t work, and he knew it wouldn’t; being there, though, wrapped up in Minhyuk’s arms, at least gave him the illusion of safety.

“I still think he’s not human,” Minhyuk grumbled, sounding a lot like a bitter old man complaining about the hooligans in his yard. “I saw him disappear right before my eyes.”

Jooheon rolled his eyes and sighed. “Minhyukie…”

“I did! I saw it!”

“Let it go,” Jooheon all but whined. “I already said that I believe you believe you saw him disappear, can’t you leave it at that?”

Minhyuk pouted at him, but relented and nodded. “Fine, but only because you asked me so nicely.”

Jooheon hummed, satisfied with the answer, and said off-handedly, without giving it much thought, “I’d rather think about what we’ll have for lunch.”

Minhyuk snorted, a sound that didn’t have any right to be as endearing as it was. “I’ll have honey for lunch,” he said and gave Jooheon a hearty bite on the cheek.

Jooheon made a squeaky sound of distress and whined, “I’m not food!”

Minhyuk giggled and squished him in his arms, pressing a series of kisses to the spot of his cheek he’d just bitten. “You’re so cute I could eat you up.”

“Please, say you mean that metaphorically.”

“Of course, do I look like a cannibal to you?” he asked, laughter very present in his tone. “Just you wait, honey, someday I’ll pass the test and give you a practical demonstration.”

It took a few seconds for Jooheon to process those words, and once he was done… he still didn’t get it. Not what Minhyuk meant with ‘practical demonstration’ and not what he meant with ‘pass the test’.

“Uhm… what test?” he asked, careful, deciding to focus on that part first. It felt much more confusing than the part about demonstrations - knowing Minhyuk, it had something to do with— uh—  _ lustful desires. _

Minhyuk leaned back so they could stare at each other, both of them with narrowed eyes and a hitch between their brows. Minhyuk was looking at him as if he was expecting something - as if Jooheon was playing a prank on him and he was waiting for the punchline. It only made Jooheon more confused.

“Minhyukie, what test?” he asked again when they went staring at each other for too long without speaking.

“You  _ know,” _ Minhyuk said, moving his eyes as if he was trying to give Jooheon a hint. When Jooheon just stared at him, waiting, Minhyuk went slack-jawed. “Did I— oh God, did I imagine it? You really don’t know?”

Jooheon blinked, once, twice. “I really don’t know.”

Minhyuk instantly went red and made a strange noise in the back of his throat before covering his face with both hands. That would have already been enough to hide him away, but he went ahead and rolled over to lie on his stomach, all so he could press his hand-covered face into the pillow to add another layer of cover to his shame.

“I’m such an idiot!” Minhyuk screamed into the pillow, his voice muffled but still clear enough for Jooheon to understand him.

“Minhyuk?” Jooheon called with some concern, and placed a hand on his back. “Minhyukie, what’s wrong?”

Minhyuk made an odd garbled noise and pushed himself up to a sitting position. Jooheon didn’t particularly want to get up, but he felt awkward just laying there while Minhyuk stared down at him, so he forced himself to sit up as well. Minhyuk’s cheeks were cherry-red with embarrassment.

“I thought—” he began then closed his mouth again, nostrils expanding when he inhaled a long breath of air. “I thought you were testing my resolve.”

Jooheon frowned. It suddenly felt the way it did anytime he had to do math. “Testing your resolve?”

“Yes, you— you said you didn’t want to be just another one of my, uh— ‘conquests’, so I assumed that you get tense whenever things start heating up between us because you’re worried that’s all I want from you, so I’ve been trying to be good and behave not to pressure you into anything and I… I’m… that’s not what it is, right?”

Minhyuk said it all in a single breath and Jooheon had to take a moment to run the words through his brain, so they would make sense. Once he managed to do so, he said, “Uh… right, that’s not what it is.”

“Oh. Then… what is it?” Minhyuk asked, careful as if Jooheon was a skittish woodland creature. Then his expression shifted into something like surprise and he gasped. “Honey, are you— you never—?”

“I have!” Jooheon interrupted, his own cheeks heating up at the topic. “It’s— it’s just—” he stammered and looked away, down at the old woolen blanket they’d been cuddling under. Saying it out loud was likely the most embarrassing, mortifying thing he’d ever had to do, but he and Minhyuk had already misunderstood each other enough for the next five billion years. Explaining the issue felt like the correct way to proceed. “I’m not… not as experienced as you, so— I’m worried you’ll be disappointed.”

Minhyuk’s jaw dropped. Again. Jooheon made a point of not making eye contact, lest he combusted where he sat.

“Honey… I’m— why are you so cute?”

Jooheon looked at Minhyuk as if he’d grown a second head. “What—”

“I could never be disappointed!” Minhyuk interrupted before he could finish his question. “And— it’s fine if you’re not very experienced, because… you see, technically I’m not experienced too, not… not with you. Because we never— you know. With each other. So I don’t know what you like and you don’t know what I like, so it’ll be a first time for both of us.”

Awkward as it was to be having that conversation, Jooheon could see that Minhyuk had a good argument there. He licked his lips, wringing his fingers nervously. “I— you’re right, I guess.”

“And honey, this is the best part!” he said, holding both of Jooheon’s hand to stop him from fidgeting. “Learning about each other is the best part!”

“It is?” Jooheon asked sheepishly and Minhyuk nodded to agree, threading his fingers with Jooheon’s.

“Yes! And— we love each other,” Minhyuk said, and he sounded so giddy Jooheon couldn’t keep himself from smiling along like a fool. “That alone will already make it good.”

“You really think so?”

“I’m sure so,” Minhyuk said, scooting closer so he could kiss him, a soft press of his lips that didn’t last even two seconds but that spoke volumes of how dear Jooheon was to him. Jooheon felt as if he was melting. More seriously, Minhyuk said, “I’m sorry for presuming again. I’m not very good at— you know. Actually asking people if I’m right about my assumptions. I’ll do better.”

“I forgive you,” Jooheon said. “I need to get better at expressing myself too, so you won’t have to make assumptions at all.”

“We can work on those together. Baby steps.” Minhyuk then beamed him, bright smile and even brighter eyes, and asked, “For now... can we try?”

Jooheon didn’t have to ask what Minhyuk was referring to, his cheeks growing hot again. They became even hotter when he agreed to Minhyuk’s request with a nod.

Suffice it to say, his cheeks were just the first of many parts of his body to get hot that morning.

◦ ◦ ◦

It was already past noon when Changkyun finally reached the area of the docks where Kihyun’s warehouse was supposed to be. He was not familiar with the place, never spent much time at all in any of the neighborhoods that sat by the riverside, so of course, he got lost - if he wasn’t feeling enough like a failure, this finished tipping the scales.

He only had until sunset to complete his venture, and there he was, getting lost and wasting time.

His only luck was the fact that most people that worked at the docks were friendly and helpful, and gladly gave him directions. Some, in fact, even knew who Kihyun was and where to find him.

And that is how, after a good hour of walking up and down, he reached his destination. Blessed be the kindness of strangers.

He looked around, taking in the several warehouses down that stretch of the docks. They were all relatively little, used for small businesses, and— they all looked the same. Changkyun cursed to himself, frustration clogging his throat and making him want to cry. Why wasn’t anything easy?

He checked the slip of paper with the address, looking for the number of the warehouse he was supposed to find. He squinted at it, turned the paper sideways, then upside down, trying to make sense of it. Was that a 1 or a 7? Damn Hyungwon’s terrible penmanship. If they survived, he would gift him one of those notebooks with special lines to practice calligraphy, because this was ridiculous.

Changkyun took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Losing his cool would not be helpful - on the contrary, it would only make everything that much harder. He had to remain calm and think on his feet, no matter how he felt as if his panic was trying to choke him, no matter how he was in a hurry. Getting nervous and giving in to despair would only cause him to waste more time, and he couldn’t afford to waste a second. Hyungwon was alone and defenseless back at the mansion, and he had only allowed that to be because he had to procure a suitable weapon to be able to defend him; he had to go back. He had to go back before Guhn returned at sundown. 

Slipping the now useless piece of paper back inside his breast pocket, Changkyun began walking again, looking around in search of any clues, or someone who appeared to know the area. There were a few workers scattered about, carrying crates to and from ships, so Changkyun made a beeline to the one that looked the most friendly, a tall man with broad shoulders and a boyish face. He had just finished putting down a heavy looking burlap sack filled with— whatever it was, when Changkyun cleared his throat awkwardly to get his attention.

“Uhm, excuse me?”

The man turned around to face him and smiled in that polite way one smiles at a stranger. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, I— uh, I’m looking for someone, I hear he works around here,” Changkyun said. As the man just stood there waiting for him to finish, he asked, “Do you know a man named Kihyun?”

The man’s curious expression shifted to something between recognition and suspicion. “Yes, I do know him.” He stared at him for a second longer before motioning with his head and saying, “Follow me.”

Changkyun let out the most discreet breath of relief he could once the man turned around, and gladly followed him. The planets must have finally aligned for him that day, if this stranger could lead him straight to the person he’d been searching for. Good - about time for him to catch a break.

The man led him down to the wooden walkways where the ships docked, and as that area was not as crowded as the main street had been, following the man was not difficult at all to accomplish. It did help that he was tall and easy to keep an eye on. Quite handsome, too.

Not that he would ever stray, of course, but Changkyun had a pair of perfectly-working eyes. Hyungwon was gorgeous, but he wasn’t the only gorgeous person in the world; looking was not a sin.

Yet he still felt bad for his passing thought - Hyungwon was alone at the mansion, bearing a terrible headache, and Changkyun was traipsing down the docks ogling at an attractive stranger. He shook himself, forced his mind to focus on the pressing matter of acquiring a weapon, and kept on walking.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to walk for long. Soon enough he spotted him, although he didn’t recognize him right away.

Just a few steps ahead, sitting atop one of many crates stacked in a messy tower, was the man Hyungwon introduced him to the day prior as Kihyun - yet he looked nothing like the wraith he’d encountered. The haunted look that seemed to be his default expression was nowhere to be seen; he was smiling. Smiling and laughing, nothing about him betraying any grievances or concerns. His attitude was light, as was the very air around him.

He’d been talking to a man sitting at the topmost crate in that stack, and he, too, was laughing and appeared to have no worries in the world. He was concerningly thin, though - thin in the way only someone who had fought a deadly illness for a long time could be. That must be one of his lovers, Changkyun assumed.

He didn’t act like someone who was deathly ill, though. Did Hyungwon—?

“Ki!” the man who had led him there called.

Kihyun heard the man and turned around to face him, a bright smile adorning his features - he looked pretty when he smiled, Changkyun decided.

However, the moment Kihyun locked eyes with Changkyun, the smile dropped from his face and that haunted look returned.

Yep, that was the guy he’d been looking for.

Kihyun hopped off the crate he’d been sitting on and turned to say something to his Presumed-To-Be-Lover before he came marching towards Changkyun with an expression so hard it might as well have been carved in stone.

“This guy’s been looking for you,” the stranger said when Kihyun came close enough.

“Yes, I am aware,” Kihyun said, eyes not moving from Changkyun’s face. It was quite unnerving. “I’ll be right back, Woo.”

He exchanged a brief glance with the stranger - ‘Woo’, whatever name that was short for - and his demeanor softened some as he reached out to give the man’s hand a subtle squeeze when he walked by him.

Oh. That must be the second lover.

Kihyun certainly did well for himself; both his lovers were quite the stunners. Not that Kihyun didn’t have his charms too, but it was hard to see it when he looked as if he tortured people for a living.

“You,” Kihyun looked at him again, expression becoming scary once more, then snapped his fingers and pointed towards the warehouses, “come with me.”

Changkyun ducked his head and, after murmuring a meek ‘thank you’ to the man who led him there, scurried after Kihyun feeling much like a child about to be scolded. There was just something about Kihyun and the way he carried himself that made Changkyun think of a strict teacher or parent, and Changkyun had never gotten along very well with authority figures; most of his interactions with such people ended with him being punished for something.

Not that he blamed them. He’d been a difficult child.

Changkyun swallowed the unease and picked up his pace so he was walking next to Kihyun and not behind him. “Uhm, I’m not sure you remember me, I’m—”

“I know who you are,” Kihyun snapped. Changkyun clamped his mouth shut. 

He kept quiet the rest of the way as Kihyun led him to and into one of the warehouses, unlocking and pushing the heavy wooden door open with surprising ease for someone so dainty-looking. He closed the door with the same ease once Changkyun was inside, and motioned with his head to signal him to follow him deeper into the warehouse.

“I— Hyungwon mentioned you sell firearms,” Changkyun said as he walked after Kihyun, trying to keep up with him and his confident stride.

“I’m sure he did,” was Kihyun’s wry response.

Well. Changkyun was expecting Kihyun to be a little more eager to sell his product, but he could deal with the veiled hostility; there were more important matters at hand than a scary salesman.

He hoped he’d brought enough money to pay for the pistol. With Kihyun in such a sour mood, Changkyun found it hard to believe he would be willing to barter. In fact, he was expecting Kihyun to charge extra based only on the fact that Changkyun had shown up and interrupted him while he was spending time with his sick lover.

He’d brought all his savings, though. It was quite a handsome sum of money, so certainly Kihyun would sell him something. He would settle for the cheapest pistol, as long as it could shoot.

The warehouse was much smaller on the inside than he’d expected, and much emptier too. He looked around curiously as Kihyun led him to the very back, where a small stack of crates sat against the furthermost wall. Kihyun noticed him looking after glancing over his shoulder, likely to make sure he was still following.

“We already sold most of the product I brought back on my last voyage,” he explained. Changkyun intelligently answered with an ‘oh’ of understanding.

Then a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. “Wait, do you still have any firearms left?”

Kihyun let out a heavy sigh. “Yes.”

Changkyun exhaled with relief. He believed for a second his venture would end in failure. Another failure.

They reached the stack of crates and Kihyun went directly to a particular box at the very bottom, sliding the lid just enough that he could slip his hand inside and pull out a relatively small pistol. It was quite simple looking, with a polished wood handle and a brand new, shiny iron barrel. Kihyun pushed it into Changkyun’s hands unceremoniously. Changkyun awkwardly took it.

“There, it’s already loaded and everything,” Kihyun said.

Changkyun stood there, staring at the weapon in his hands entirely dumbfounded. Kihyun groaned and sucked his teeth, annoyed.

“You have no idea how to even use it, do you?”

“I—”

“Here.” Kihyun took the pistol from his hand so fast Changkyun didn’t even have time to react. “This is the hammer,” he said, pointing at the part in question, “you have to cock it before shooting. As such,” he said as he pulled the hammer with his thumb, and it made a distinctive clicking sound. “If you don’t cock it, the gun won’t shoot. Got it?”

“Y-yeah, got it,” Changkyun stammered as Kihyun fiddled with the pistol, presumably to—  _ uncock it _ , or whatever it was called, before pushing back into his hands. “Is that— is that all?”

“Pretty much,” Kihyun said with a shrug. “Cock it, point it, shoot it. Do be careful, though, it’s not a toy.”

Changkyun bristled at that and grumbled, “I know it’s not a toy.” He slid the pistol into the waist of his pants, at his back, before reaching for the inner pocket of his coat where the money he’d brought was. “How much do you want for it?”

“Nothing.”

Changkyun froze mid-action and frowned up at Kihyun, confused. “Nothing?”

Kihyun had his lips pressed tight, as if he was struggling with something. Changkyun didn’t expect him to tell him what it was, yet still Kihyun said, “Consider it a gesture of— appreciation.” The word ‘appreciation’ was said between his teeth as if he was fighting with the notion. “My—  _ brothers _ have recovered thanks to Hyungwon, and as such, I find myself compelled to— return the favor.”

“Oh,” Changkyun said. “They have recovered?”

“Yes, in full.”

There was a long pause, during which Kihyun only stared at him. His gaze was so piercing Changkyun was certain he could see into his very soul; he just stood there, shifting awkwardly under his scrutiny, unsure what to do, how to act.

Finally, Kihyun let out a huff and said, “I don’t know how he did it, and I don’t want to know. All I know is that he was true to his word, and for that, I am thankful.”

“I— I’ll let him know.”

Kihyun gave him a curt nod before adding, “Also let him know that I expect not to be contacted by him - or you - ever again. Our business is concluded, and I would rather our paths not cross in the future.”

Changkyun blinked. “Alright…? I take it you did not enjoy doing business with Hyungwon.”

The pinched expression returned to Kihyun’s face. He seemed as if he’d just bitten into a particularly bitter lemon wedge. “You can say that.” He took a deep breath and shook himself, motioning towards the exit. “You have what you came for.”

Changkyun made a face at the obvious dismissal but made no comments, following Kihyun back the way they came. It all felt surreal - too easy. Too— strange.

Kihyun’s lovers recovered  _ in full _ . How did Hyungwon do it? Were they ever sick at all? Or was Kihyun simply under the impression they had recovered? No, Hyungwon was many things, but he was not one for scams. He took pride in having abilities that were real, so lying to Kihyun about curing his lovers made absolutely no sense.

No, there was no doubt in his mind that Hyungwon had, somehow, rid Kihyun’s lovers of their illness. He remembered Hyungwon mentioning something about how he had more tricks up his sleeve than communing with the dead, but— a magical cure for consumption couldn’t be what it was. Supernatural healing powers… but then, if he had the power to heal  _ consumption _ of all things, then certainly he would be able to rid himself of his own ailments - namely, his migraines. Or was it something that didn’t work on himself?

Or— could it be Jooheon was right? Hyungwon was a witch?

That sounded like nonsense. He had lived with Hyungwon for weeks now, and he never, not once, witnessed him do anything that could be considered witchcraft. Reading tarot cards and speaking with the dead were not proof of witchcraft, and those were the only unnatural things he’d seen Hyungwon do.

Unless— 

Unless Hyungwon was somehow doing things when Changkyun wasn’t around. He was, in retrospect, left to his own devices often, as Guhn spent most of his time in the city doing business and Changkyun regularly left the mansion to scout the séance locations and visit Jooheon. That gave Hyungwon plenty of opportunities to practice witchcraft or whatever it was he did in his spare time.

He had done something against Guhn without Changkyun noticing, after all. If Hyungwon had managed to sabotage Guhn’s finances thoroughly enough that the man’s vault in the bank was emptied, then he needed time to make it happen - time and privacy.

Hyungwon and his secrets. A bitter feeling settled in his heart - did he know his own lover at all?

He shook his head to chase the uncertainty away. It didn’t matter, in the end. At least, he didn’t think it did - he loved Hyungwon, and he had no reason to believe Hyungwon was lying to him about his own love for him.

If he truly was a witch, would Changkyun care? No, not really. It would explain a lot, for one, and it was an appealing concept to have a sorcerer as a lover. Whatever mystical powers Hyungwon had, Changkyun couldn’t see a reason to not trust him or to believe he harbored ill intentions towards him. In fact, if Hyungwon wanted to harm in any way, he’d had plenty of opportunities to do so. He hadn’t.

For all his secrets, Hyungwon had never led him astray. On the contrary - Hyungwon had kept him safe and comfortable. Hyungwon saw to his every need, physically and emotionally. Hyungwon— he loved him. Whatever he was, whatever he could do, he loved him.

Changkyun couldn’t imagine loving Hyungwon less over something so— intangible.

_ Witchcraft _ . That sounded so silly to explain the strange happenings around Hyungwon that Changkyun just couldn’t see it. It wasn’t witchcraft.

He forced himself to detract from that train of thought once he reached the street again, Kihyun now busy closing and locking the warehouse door behind them. He shifted where he stood, uncertain if he should just leave or say something else. He opted for the polite route. Burning bridges that might someday prove useful felt like a bad move, no matter how Kihyun said he didn’t want to be contacted by them again.

“Uh— thanks. For the pistol,” he said.

Kihyun shushed him and looked around, as if trying to make sure nobody overheard them, before approaching and talking to him in urgent whispers. “I already said this is my way of returning the favor to Hyungwon, so quit your thanking. Now, if you do anything stupid with that thing, you better not even  _ think _ of my name, got it? I want no part in whatever it is you have planned for it, and if any of it comes back to me, I will personally rip out your spleen and force it down your throat.”

Changkyun felt as if he’d just swallowed a bucket of ice cubes, such was the fear Kihyun’s threat caused him. He could tell he meant every word, and Changkyun— he liked his spleen, he would prefer if it remained where it was.

“U-understood,” he answered.

Kihyun stared right into his eyes for a long moment and then exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t know you, but you look like a nice kid—”

“I’m not a kid, I’m 23…”

“—and I feel as if I should tell you to be careful,” Kihyun concluded. “I can’t really presume on whoever—  _ whatever _ Hyungwon is or what his intentions are, but you should be careful. I don’t think he has any reason to do you harm - he is quite fond of you, judging from what I gathered from him - but still, be careful with him. Something’s not right.”

Changkyun immediately felt himself getting protective - and also very tired of everyone warning him against Hyungwon. “I appreciate your concern and your warning, but there is nothing wrong with Hyungwon.”

Kihyun shrugged, not fazed at his burst of defensiveness. “That’s not for me to say, I barely know him and I would rather keep it that way. As I’ve said earlier, he helped me and I’m very thankful for it, so take my advice as you will.”

Changkyun was still not convinced, but he didn’t want to waste even more time arguing with Kihyun about Hyungwon’s nature. “Very well. Thank you.”

And of course, because things had been going well and he was feeling confident, something had to happen to mortify him - his stomach growled. Very loudly.

Well. That was embarrassing.

Kihyun arched an eyebrow at him. Changkyun lowered his eyes, cheeks ablaze. He hadn’t had breakfast, and he had skipped lunch too - of course it would come back to bite him in the ass.

“Eat something before continuing your crusade, will you? Not eating will make your grip unsteady,” Kihyun said. “You don’t need shaky hands when you have to use your brand new pistol.”

And with that, he turned around and walked away, back to where he’d been sitting with his lovers before Changkyun arrived. Changkyun watched him go, still gripped by shame, but also seeing the truth in Kihyun’s words - he did get shaky hands whenever he went too long without eating. Hunger paired with his lack of sleep and frazzled nerves would make for very poor aim.

He would get something to eat on his way back to the moor - the last detour he was willing to take. Hyungwon was still alone at the mansion, and he needed to return to his side post-haste before Guhn beat him to it.

He had a feeling that Guhn would not be able to retrieve the money that went missing from his vault at the bank.

He also had a feeling that the threat he made to Hyungwon that morning was not an empty one.

Changkyun turned on his heels and swiftly made his way out of the docks. No time to waste.

◦ ◦ ◦

Hoseok watched Kihyun walk back from the warehouse with that tense expression he often wore when something was weighing on his mind. He didn’t know who that man who had been looking for Kihyun was, but Hoseok was willing to bet anything that it had something to do with what he told them earlier that morning - a deal with the Devil, he’d said.

Hyunwoo hadn’t believed him, even though he couldn’t find a rational explanation for their miraculous recovery. And they were recovered - Hoseok would know. He’d been sick for so long that he could tell the difference, as if he’d had snakes slithering through his veins for years until he woke up that morning and— literally threw them up. Whatever came out of him, he recognized as the thing that had been in his bloodstream, sucking the life out of him, making him weaker, sicker, calling for Death to come claim him.

It was not there anymore. He still felt physically weak, but that was to be expected - he’d been bedridden for ages, of course his body would no longer be as strong as it had been before the illness - but other than that… he was fine. He felt fine, better than he felt in years.

They had even burned their bedsheets and the clothes they had been wearing the night before to ensure they would not get sick again - that’s how certain they were they were healthy. They were not in a position where they could set fire to their possessions all willy-nilly.

So, while Hyunwoo had trouble taking Kihyun’s statement at face value, Hoseok believed him. If he hadn’t made a deal with the Devil, then he had made a deal with an angel. Whatever happened, it was nothing short of a miracle, and miracles are not things one can rationalize - Hoseok knew for a fact there were things in the universe that logic could not hope to explain. Spending so long looking at Death in the eye changed his perception of the world, opened his eyes to things he wasn’t able to see before. Things he didn’t believe before.

If Kihyun had truly made a deal with the Devil, though, that put them in a dangerous situation. Judging from Kihyun’s worried expression, he was of the same mind.

He waited until Kihyun was close enough before hopping off the crate he’d been sitting on, just next to their ship, by the river - and how wonderful it was to be outside. He’d missed it all so much - the wind, the water, the constant activity at the docks.  _ Their ship. _ Oh, how he’d missed their ship.

Tagging along with Hyunwoo for his shift at the docks had been a great idea, and it had felt incredibly satisfying not to hear an immediate ‘no’ to his request. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever being told ‘yes’ with so much enthusiasm.

Kihyun’s gaze crossed his own and he smiled, even though it looked brittle. Hoseok smiled back and waited for him to come closer before asking, “Something wrong?”

“Just— you know,” Kihyun said as he motioned vaguely with one hand. “Tying up loose ends.”

“Did it have to do with—”

“Yes,” Kihyun cut him off quickly, then looked around to make sure there was nobody listening in. “We should probably go somewhere private if you want to talk about this.”

“I most certainly do want to talk about this.”

Kihyun gave him a long look and sighed, already knowing there was no point in arguing. “Alright. We can talk in the captain’s cabin, I’ll just let Woo know where we’ll be.”

Hoseok agreed with a motion of his head and patiently waited as Kihyun walked over to where Hyunwoo was helping unload some crates from a ship that had just docked. He almost wanted to run over and wrap them both in a hug, kiss them all over the way he couldn’t do for the past couple of years; there were two hearts in him, one that longed to be outside, and one that longed to be cooped up somewhere with his lovers. He couldn’t have both, and yet—

No point dwelling on it. He would have them all to himself later - and there would be a later, something he was never sure about. He could make plans. He could look forward to the future, because there was a future to be had.

He wished he could meet Kihyun’s devil. He wanted to thank him in person.

Alas, that didn’t seem like something that would happen.

It took no longer than two minutes before Kihyun returned to his side and, together, they made their way up the ramp to board the ship. It was empty at the moment, no crew around; no reason for a crew when the ship was docked. Hoseok did hope it would not remain docked for long. He missed the open ocean.

They rushed to the captain’s cabin - or captains’ cabin, as the three of them were the captains of the ship - and closed the door behind them. The cabin looked different than it did the last time Hoseok had been there, before Kihyun’s last voyage, yet it was still familiar and welcoming, full of memories of brighter times when they sailed the seas together. They could have that again now. He could hardly believe it.

He’d thought his last time on a ship would be as a corpse. While burial at sea was still how he wanted his body to be laid to rest, he was so incredibly glad to postpone that particular wish. For many decades, hopefully.

The moment Kihyun locked the door behind them, Hoseok took his hand and pulled him over to the bed. The place was clean, betraying that Kihyun had been there at some point, likely giving in to his clean freak nature - the windows and floor were spotless, the desk and cabinets organized, the bed neatly made. While it could be presumed that Hyunwoo had been the one responsible for making the bed, there was something about it that told him it had been Kihyun - it was just too perfect to have been Hyunwoo’s work. Hyunwoo tended to leave a few creases behind. There were no creases to be found.

That didn’t hold up for long, as they sat down and ruined the smooth surface of the sheets with their weight.

“Alright, we’re alone,” Hoseok said, watching Kihyun expectantly. “What is on your mind?”

Kihyun took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh, letting himself fall back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. Hoseok followed suit, lying down next to him.

“I don’t regret taking the deal,” Kihyun said. “I truly don’t. I just— I can’t help thinking of the consequences.”

Hoseok turned to lay on his side, propping his head up with one hand so he could look at Kihyun as he spoke. “What consequences do you think there will be?”

Kihyun gave him an awkward shrug in response before saying, “I don’t know. I think someone will get hurt, but if it is who I think it is… maybe they deserve it. And I feel bad for thinking they deserve it, but I’m also relieved because you and Woo are safe  _ because _ they will get hurt. I’m— I’m torn about all this.”

Hoseok hummed, reaching up with his free hand to brush a lock of hair away from Kihyun’s eyes. An excuse, more than anything - he just wanted to touch him. “This person getting hurt, was that the price you had to pay?”

“Not exactly. I just had to do something that might result in them getting hurt.”

“So you don’t actually know if someone will, in fact, get hurt.”

Kihyun sighed again, sounding tired, and took the hand Hoseok had on his hair to bring it to his lips, pressing a kiss to his palm before saying, “It’s an educated guess, bunny.”

“A guess is not a fact, Ki,” Hoseok said and shifted closer until he could lie halfway on top of Kihyun. He threw one leg over him too, for good measure; after so long abstaining from touch, he wanted to be as close to his loves as physically possible. “You can worry about and beat yourself up over something you can’t really know, or you can choose to feel bad about it if you ever get a confirmation that your fears came to pass.”

Kihyun chuckled through his nose and turned his face to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re right, I suppose. And as I said, I don’t regret it - I would have paid any price if it meant curing you and Woo. I only wish nobody else had to get hurt.”

“You have such a good heart,” Hoseok couldn’t help but comment, caressing Kihyun’s cheek lovingly with the back of his fingers. “I know how you like to present yourself as tough and unyielding, but you’re soft on the inside.”

“I  _ am _ tough and unyielding.”

Hoseok laughed. “Yes, yes, but you’re also soft. You’re a really good person, Ki.”

“I’m not,” Kihyun said, moving so he could wrap both arms around Hoseok in turn, snuggle closer to him. “I’m abrasive, selfish, and a hypocrite.”

“I never said you were perfect.” That earned him a slap on the arm from Kihyun; again, he only laughed. “You’re perfect to me, don’t get me wrong; I meant your character - everyone has flaws. You’re still a good person despite them.”

“You just think too highly of me.”

“I think of you just high enough.”

Kihyun gave him an unconvinced look, but smiled. “Whatever you say, bunny.”

Hoseok planted a kiss on Kihyun’s cheek, the tip of his nose, then his lips - how good it was not to worry about being contagious, to be able to express his affection through touches and kisses and proximity. He’d missed it so much. “Try not to worry,” he said, nuzzling Kihyun’s nose. “Unless you get some form of confirmation, you have nothing to feel bad for.”

“Mhm, you’re right,” Kihyun granted with a small sigh, and - to Hoseok’s delight - gave him a slow, loving kiss. It was brief, a few seconds at most, but, after so long, it felt like a breath of fresh air. “I love you, bunny.”

“I love you too,” Hoseok murmured in response, against Kihyun’s lips, before initiating another kiss, just as slow and just as loving, but that lasted much longer. That was much deeper.

He’d missed it all so much, having Kihyun so close, kissing him, touching him, feeling him - he could have cried of joy and relief if that wasn’t going to ruin the mood. He could cry of joy later.

Later. There would be a later.

He rolled over so he was lying completely on top of Kihyun, legs bracketing his hips, and deepened the kiss. He didn’t have any goal in mind - it was not about sex, not really. He just wanted to feel Kihyun, just wanted to get his fill of contact and affection, just wanted to kiss him and feel him move underneath him. He could do that now. He could be with Kihyun without any fear, any concern - nothing beyond the usual caution not to expose their relationship, that is. Inside their locked cabin, though, with all curtains pulled over the windows, he wasn’t worried.

His happiness only grew when, a few minutes into his kissing session with Kihyun, Hyunwoo came up to the ship to join them. Now he was sandwiched between Kihyun and Hyunwoo, being kissed by both of them, wrapped in two pairs of arms, and finally he felt— complete. 

Hyunwoo at his back and Kihyun at his front, Hoseok sighed and snuggled deeper into their embrace, eyes closed, the three of them enjoying the lull of that moment. It was as if they had been running a marathon for years and had finally crossed the finish line; they could rest now. They could stop running.

Which led Hoseok to blurt out a thought he had been toying with in his mind since earlier that morning.

“We should leave.”

Kihyun frowned and pulled back so he could look up at him, while Hyunwoo paused his action of peppering kisses on Hoseok’s neck. Hoseok turned around just enough so he could look at both of them.

“Leave?” Hyunwoo echoed. “The ship?”

“No, I mean— leave this town. Maybe the country.”

Kihyun and Hyunwoo exchanged a glance before focusing on him again. Kihyun was the one to ask, “What brought this on?”

Hoseok shrugged, playing with the hem of Kihyun’s shirt absently. “I just think a change of scenery would do all of us some good. We have enough money saved up to get a house, but that house doesn’t have to be  _ here _ .”

Kihyun hummed, looking pensive for a moment. “You’re not wrong about that.”

“Besides,” Hoseok continued, “we can move somewhere better and also escape your devil in the process.”

Kihyun went utterly still upon hearing those words. Hyunwoo, on the other hand, sighed; he still didn’t believe it. No matter - Kihyun believed it. Kihyun was the one making those claims, so he should be the one to decide if running from his devil was something he wanted to do.

Regardless of the reasons, Hoseok wanted to move. He had a good feeling about it - about starting over someplace new. They could get a nice house, maybe somewhere a little isolated, surrounded by nature, away from prying eyes. Maybe at a beach, or a lake. They could have pets. They could fill their house with dogs.

He was excited already.

The one to break the silence was Hyunwoo. “I don’t know about moving, but… I would really like to start fighting again.”

Kihyun huffed. “As long as you do it legally and according to safety regulations, I have no problem with it.”

“Me neither,” Hoseok agreed. “Boxing is becoming a very popular sport, and it’s legal - maybe you could take up boxing.”

Hyunwoo hummed as he considered. “That doesn’t sound bad. I imagine it hurts less with the gloves on, too.”

Kihyun scoffed. “If only you had thought of that before you worried me half to death.”

“I still won the tournament.”

“Details.”

“I might take up boxing too,” Hoseok said, thus ending the bickering. “Not to do it professionally, of course, just to get my strength back.”

“I’ll gladly train with you,” Hyunwoo said and pressed a long kiss to Hoseok’s nape, sending a wave of shivers down his spine.

Kihyun let out a sigh. “I feel as if I’ll spend all the money meant to buy us a house on bandages for your injuries.”

“How clumsy do you think we are?” Hyunwoo asked, laughing, and leaned over Hoseok to be able to reach Kihyun and kiss him on the cheek.

At least that got Kihyun smiling again. “Clumsy enough for me to worry.”

“You worry because you love us,” Hoseok said smartly. Kihyun giggled.

“That I do. Very much.” Kihyun paused as he reached over them with one arm to try and hug them both at the same time - not something too hard to accomplish, considering how thin Hoseok was. After a moment to get comfortable, he said, “You know… moving to a new place is not a bad idea.”

“I hear the south of France is a good place to settle down,” Hyunwoo said suggestively.

“The south of France, huh?” Kihyun murmured as if considering. “Think we have enough money for a beach-front property?”

Hoseok beamed at Kihyun, delighted with the idea, while Hyunwoo laughed behind him, although his laughter was not for thinking the idea was funny, but for— genuine happiness. Hoseok shared the sentiment.

“If we don’t, I’ll just win another fighting tournament.”

Kihyun sighed again while Hyunwoo laughed even harder at his own joke, and Hoseok had a thought that this— this was heaven. They were all alive, healthy, together, and they were starting over. They had an entire future ahead of them.

If it truly had been the Devil who gave them such a gift, was he truly so bad?

“Sometime before we leave,” he said, looking at Kihyun, specifically, “can we go to the cathedral?” At Kihyun’s curious expression, Hoseok elaborated. “I want to light a candle for your ‘devil’. As an expression of gratitude.”

Something in Kihyun softened at the request and with a small smile, he nodded and said, “That sounds like a lovely idea, bunny.”

◦ ◦ ◦

Minhyuk stretched on the couch much like a lazy cat, humming to himself with contentment. After an entire day of getting acquainted with Jooheon’s - very sensitive, very soft, very lovely - body and still warm from the bath they’d just taken, he felt as if he was made of pudding.

Very happy pudding.

He would have liked to remain in bed longer, but alas, they had to eat; that, and Jooheon’s stamina was still not a match for his own. Not yet, anyway.

They would work on that.

Minhyuk was already dressed and ready to go, only waiting for Jooheon to finish getting dressed so they could go out and buy something for dinner. Maybe even eat outside - the weather was rather nice that night, despite the cold. Jooheon was sure taking his sweet time, however, which gave Minhyuk the chance to bask in the afterglow.

Fair, he’d been basking in the afterglow for over an hour, but who’s to say how long afterglow-basking should last? There was no rule saying he had to be done with it in two minutes, so he would stretch out that feeling of contentment for as long as he could. He’d earned it.

All the partners and experience Minhyuk had and nothing had ever felt quite like this. It was a cheesy sentiment, corny, but it was true. Sex was never so fulfilling, and it was… entirely mind-boggling to him. He’d done it so many times and with so many different people, and yet he’d never felt so—  _ loved _ before. So appreciated. So cared for. And Jooheon, true to his word, was not very experienced - which was not to imply that he didn’t know what he was doing, because he  _ did  _ \- but he had managed to make him feel like none of his much more experienced partners ever could.

Sex for the sake of sex was nice, but that day Minhyuk had learned that it could never compare to sex with  _ actual _ feelings.

In fact, he was learning about how many things were a lot better with actual feelings. Even little things like walking down the street side by side or having a meal together with Jooheon felt more meaningful, more special. Like every moment was worthwhile. Like life itself was worthwhile, and wasn’t that a strange concept to him - his life was worthwhile.  _ He _ was worthwhile.

And it was all because of Jooheon.

...who was taking too long to get ready.

“Honey!” Minhyuk called from where he was still laying on the couch, one arm hanging from the side and half of his legs suspended due to the lack of room, yet still impossibly comfortable. “Honey, hurry up!”

“Just a minute!” Jooheon responded from the bedroom, coming out only a couple of seconds later with an adorable pout on his face. “I can’t find my coat.”

“You can use one of mine,” Minhyuk said as he rolled off the couch and stood up, to then look down and discover he’d been lying on top of Jooheon’s coat the entire time. “Oh, found it.”

Jooheon sighed and came over to collect his coat, and Minhyuk took advantage of the proximity to latch himself to him, arms wrapped tight around his middle and head resting on his shoulder. Nobody could blame him for wanting to be all over Jooheon all the time - Jooheon was just too adorable to resist.

Jooheon stopped mid-motion as he reached for his coat and chuckled. “I thought you wanted me to hurry up.”

“After this,” Minhyuk replied, rubbing his cheek on Jooheon’s shoulder. Jooheon laughed again and turned so he could hug him back; Minhyuk nearly purred with delight.

“Come on, Minhyukie, I’m hungry.”

“But do you  _ have _ to eat? I thought human beings could go without food for, what, a week?”

“...we’re going now, let me put on my coat.”

Minhyuk huffed but did - albeit reluctantly - let Jooheon go. “Is dinner more important than cuddling?”

“Consider dinner the fuel we need so we can cuddle for longer,” Jooheon said smartly.

Minhyuk hummed, considering, but before he could even open his mouth to respond, a brief set of knocks on the door interrupted him. He frowned at Jooheon, both of them exchanging a look that asked the same thing - ‘were you waiting for someone?’ - before Minhyuk took it upon himself to go open the door. At least it would give Jooheon time to put on his coat, which was oh so very important he couldn’t even cuddle with him for two minutes.

He cleared his throat and fixed his clothes before finally opening the door, to at least give whoever it was the impression he wasn’t just laying around like a big lump on the couch, and once he did, he was met with a young woman he’d never seen before in his life. Short, round-faced, dark hair tied in a neat bun at the base of her neck.

He also noticed the very obvious box she was holding, a large wooden box without any decorations or carvings other than the iron latch that kept it closed.

Minhyuk only stared at her for a heartbeat, mind already jumping to a hundred different conclusions and none of them very good. He hoped she was lost. He hoped she was not a former lover of Jooheon’s, who had just discovered she was pregnant with his child and came to demand him to marry her.

And his mind truly had to calm down.

Swallowing the insecurity that settled in his chest, he smiled politely and asked, “Yes?”

“Uh— hello, I— I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, but... is this Jooheon’s apartment?” the woman asked, uncertain.

“Yes, it is,” Minhyuk said. Looking over his shoulder at Jooheon, who by then had successfully put on his coat, he said, “I think it’s for you.”

Jooheon frowned, confused, and shuffled closer to the entrance to see who it was. His expression was difficult to read when his eyes fell on the woman still waiting at the door. Minhyuk saw recognition there, but not— not a recognition that spoke of children out of wedlock.

“You— you’re from the mansion.”

Minhyuk blinked, a new set of explanations replacing the (stupid) previous ones in his mind, and turned to the woman again. “The mansion? Did Changkyun send you?”

“No,” she replied with a shake of her head. “Master Hyungwon did.”

Minhyuk tensed up. “Oh.”

Well. That couldn’t be good. Nothing related to Hyungwon was ever good, especially not strange women carrying mysterious boxes and appearing suddenly on their doorstep. It smelled like a trap.

“Here,” she said, offering the box she had been carrying to Minhyuk. “He told me to give you this.”

Minhyuk warily accepted the box, almost expecting it to explode in his hands. “Thank you, uh—?”

“Kyla,” she supplied.

“Right. Thank you, Kyla,” Minhyuk repeated, managing to smile despite his discomfort. Jooheon was conspicuously quiet behind him. “Do you have any idea what’s in here or why he sent it to us?”

“No, not a clue,” Kyla said. “I believe they are moving from the mansion. He dismissed all of the servants today - even gave us all a hefty sum of money and letters of recommendation. My last task was to bring this box to this address.”

Minhyuk only became more confused and exchanged a puzzled glance with Jooheon, who looked just as lost as he did. Turning back to Kyla, he said, “They’re moving?”

“I suppose they are. I don’t really know anything, I’m just assuming since— well.” She paused and shrugged. “I can’t think of another reason for master Hyungwon to dismiss every single one of the servants.”

Minhyuk was overcome with a feeling of unease. Moving. They were moving. Changkyun hadn’t mentioned anything - in fact, he didn’t appear to be planning a move, not with the way he’d rejected their suggestions that he left the mansion at the speed of sound just the day before. And Hyungwon— Minhyuk was quite certain Hyungwon couldn’t take two steps without a servant to polish the ground for him to walk on, so why would he dismiss  _ all  _ the servants?

Changkyun had mentioned Hyungwon had plans of his own. This was probably it.

He didn’t like it. It felt… off.

Something was very wrong.

“Did Changkyun say anything?” Jooheon asked, having stepped closer to the door while Minhyuk was speaking to Kyla.

Again, she shrugged. “He wasn’t at the mansion when I left.”

He felt Jooheon tense up next to him before asking, “He wasn’t?”

“No, he took one of the horses in the morning to run an errand and wasn’t back by the time I left.” She then took a step back, obviously aiming to make her exit. “I should get going, I have a carriage waiting for me outside and a train to catch.”

“Oh, right,” Minhyuk said. “Thank you for coming all the way here.”

“Y-yeah, thank you,” Jooheon stammered.

She smiled at them. “It was no trouble.”

They exchanged their brief farewells and, just like that, Kyla turned on her heels and walked away. Minhyuk retreated back into the apartment, closing the door behind him mechanically with one hand, the box secured under his other arm. Jooheon was staring at it as if it was Pandora’s Box - and maybe he wasn’t too far off. Minhyuk could certainly see terrible things being unleashed once they opened it. He wouldn’t put it past Hyungwon to send over a curse as a gift.

Minhyuk looked at Jooheon, hoping he would give him some instruction, but Jooheon only continued to stare at the box. Minhyuk took a deep breath and moved back to the living room, back to the couch, and took a seat. Jooheon silently followed.

Placing the box on the couch between them, Minhyuk inhaled long and deep to calm his jitters, and gazed up at Jooheon. “Should we… open it?”

“What if it’s something alive? Like— like a rabid rat?”

Minhyuk leaned down to press his ear to the box. No sound. He shook it a bit, and while something inside rattled when he did so, it didn’t keep moving when he stopped. He straightened himself up again. “If there’s a rat in there, it’s dead.”

Jooheon made a shrill sound of distress and scooted back on the couch, away from the box, almost falling off in the process. “Keep it away from me!”

“I really don’t think it’s a dead rat, Honey,” Minhyuk said, hoping it sounded soothing, and took another deep breath. “Alright, I’m opening it.”

With the tip of his thumb and index finger, Minhyuk unlatched the box as if it were covered in something disgusting, trying to touch it the least possible. He quickly retracted his hand once the latch popped open and stared at it for a few moments. Nothing tried to jump out, nothing betrayed any activity inside it, so he put on his brave face for Jooheon’s sake, and opened the box.

The first thing Minhyuk saw was what seemed to be a letter, sitting at the very top of the few contents of the box. On the white envelope, he read the words _‘To Jooheon’,_ which had been scribbled in a messy chicken scratch of a handwriting. There was no wax seal, which was… a bit disappointing. Hyungwon just seemed like the ‘wax-seal-on-letters’ type of person.

Minhyuk gingerly took the letter, still with only his fingertips, with the purpose of handing it to Jooheon, but froze the moment he caught sight of what was under the letter. Under a few other items and a couple of folded pieces of paper, were several stacks of banknotes that completely hid the bottom of the box. Minhyuk’s jaw dropped.

“Oh, my God,” Jooheon said upon seeing it too. “Are— are those real?”

“I… I think they are,” Minhyuk agreed, eyes not moving from the stacks of money. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying but unable to find the words to express what he was feeling.

It had to be a trick. Hyungwon wouldn’t just— just send them a small fortune inside a nondescript wooden box out of the blue, for no good reason.

Without looking at Jooheon, Minhyuk passed him the letter. “This— for you.”

Looking like the definition of the word ‘dazed’, Jooheon accepted the letter; his hands were shaking when he took it.

Minhyuk finally found it in himself to gaze up at him once he heard him open it. “What does it say?”

“Should—” Jooheon stammered, then shook his head as trying to find his axis and tried again. “Should I read the whole thing?”

“Yes!” 

“Uh— alright… God, his handwriting is awful,” Jooheon grumbled, then cleared his throat. “It says, _‘Jooheon, I can only imagine how confused you must be to receive this missive’_ \- he got that right. ‘_Rest assured, I have no ulterior motives. Consider it a parting gift’,”_ he paused, frowning, and murmured to himself, “wait, parting gift?” 

Minhyuk was coiled like a spring ready to pop such was his curiosity. “Keep reading!”

“Alright, uh, ‘ _ Changkyun doesn’t know about it, but I’m sure he would approve. In the box, you will find enough money to acquire a permanent residence for yourself and Minhyuk, as well as to cover the expenses of the apprenticeship you have been searching for. I have also included a small list of brands and businesses that will make for profitable investments - instructions on how to go about investing the money are also included.’ _ ” Jooheon paused and took a deep breath. “I think I need to sit down.”

Minhyuk decided not to remind Jooheon of the fact that he was already sitting down and asked, “What else does it say?”

“Give me a second!” Jooheon protested, voice oddly high-pitched, before he squared his shoulders and kept reading. “ _ ‘To Minhyuk, I have left two gifts: one is my deck of tarot cards, which I trust him to take good care of; the second is a notepad that contains much regarding séances and how to perform one convincingly - and before the suspicion arises, the contents of this notepad were all written by Changkyun, not by me. He has quite the brain for trickery and mischief, as we are all aware. I hope that Minhyuk can make a name for himself as a medium with the information Changkyun was able to gather.’ _ ”

Minhyuk’s jaw dropped and he stared at Jooheon for a second, likely looking like a dead fish. “Bullshit.”

“It’s what it says here,” Jooheon said, shrugging. “He finishes by saying that they will be gone for a while, but that we should hear from Changkyun soon. _ ‘Of me, you can consider yourselves permanently rid of.’”  _ Jooheon huffed, expression scrunched up in utter incertitude. “What the hell?”

“I’m so confused.”

“So am I.”

Mind reeling, still trying to make sense of it all, Minhyuk rummaged through the box. Sure enough, there were the deck of tarot cards and the notepad, just like Hyungwon had cited in the letter. As he picked up the notepad and opened it to examine its contents, met with a much different handwriting than the one he’d seen on the letter sent to Jooheon, something that had been hidden amongst the pages fell to the ground.

A folded piece of paper.

Minhyuk suspiciously took it in his shaky hands and opened it. He was right away gripped by a sinking feeling once he read the single sentence written there.

_ ‘You were right all along.’ _

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end is nigh


	15. Chapter 15

◦

The mansion was quiet. Empty. Kyla had been the last servant to leave, and with her, she’d taken the last bit of liveliness from the grounds.

Standing by the window in his study, Hyungwon looked out at the orange-tinted sky. Sunset would be soon.

He’d already packed away everything he deemed important - there wasn’t much. His poetry journal, a couple of books, the two photographs of himself and Changkyun from that day they’d spent in town. His mourning jewelry collection had been properly packed away as well, save from the scorpion cameo he was wearing, and the four pieces he would need that night.

Where he’d been giddy that morning, eager for everything to end, now he felt— odd. It all had started well - he’d sent Changkyun off on his mission with a smile and a kiss, then changed from his comfortable clothes into something more appropriate to the occasion. Black. He was dressed in black. The cotton shirt he had on was the only white piece in his ensemble - the lace undershirt, the embroidered waistcoat, the pants, the shoes, all of it was black. He was not usually so attentive to such things as specific outfits, but this felt special. He wanted to make it special.

Endings are important rites of passage, after all.

Then, he’d written letters of recommendation for every remaining servant, much like he’d done for the ones he’d already dismissed. It took a couple of hours to do so, and his wrist was still hurting from the sheer amount of writing, but he didn’t mind; the staff at the mansion deserved far better than just a glowing letter of recommendation, but it was what he was able to provide them with.

Despite the ache in his wrist, he still pushed through and wrote a letter to Jooheon, as well as other pieces of information he deemed would be helpful; he would likely not have other chances to do something nice for Jooheon and, by extension, Minhyuk, and he wanted to at least leave them with a better memory of him. Giving them those items and the money didn’t feel like enough, but they would at least find the contents of the box useful.

One by one, he had called the servants up, offered them their personalized letter of recommendation and a generous severance fee - “courtesy” of Guhn’s fortune - and sent them on their way. Mrs. Kim and Kyla walked away with a bit more money than the rest of the servants, but nobody needed to know that.

And now there he was, alone in that enormous mansion, waiting for the axe to drop.

That eager anticipation he’d felt in the morning slowly gave way to melancholy as he waited. He should be happy, excited - this life was ending, and he’d been miserable through most part of it. The part that hadn’t been miserable, though— 

He had learned long ago not to get attached, knew it never brought him anything other than heartache, yet he continuously went against his logic because he could not control his foolish heart; he’d gotten attached. He would never say it out loud, of course, would never whisper that truth into the universe and give it footing, but— he’d grown quite fond of Kihyun and Minhyuk.

The same could not be said about them, he sadly knew. It had been difficult to keep smiling, to force his expression to remain unaffected whenever they directly or indirectly expressed their dislike towards him. They didn’t want his friendship - they barely even weathered his presence, of course they would not want his friendship. And he did not blame them, could not fault them for disliking him - it was all part of the role he had to play. He was supposed to be— difficult. And it was for the best, in the end. He had no place in their lives - he had no place in anyone’s life, nobody besides Changkyun, and it was enough. Changkyun was enough.

It didn’t stop him from wishing for it - connection.

It was alright, though. It was fine. He’d been through it many times, and he would go through it again. And again and again and again. He survived so far, he would continue to do so, and the pain would dull and become manageable with time. It always did, eventually.

He would still watch over them. From the shadows, of course - he wasn’t welcome as an active participant in their lives, but he was in a position where he could take measures to ensure they were happy. Safe. And he would; they would never thank him for it, but he needed no gratitude. This was for his own peace of mind.

He wished things could be different. He wished they could be— friends. They couldn’t, of course. Why would anyone want to be friends with him?

Maybe in another life.

And there was Changkyun. Changkyun, who loved him - Changkyun, who might no longer love him when the night was over and the mists had cleared.

It was a possibility he did not wish to entertain, yet still a strong possibility nonetheless. Changkyun might— he might not accept him. He might hate him. And that would be fine, too; it would break his heart beyond repair, but it would be fine. If it made Changkyun happy, then— then he would let him go. And he would watch over him, too.

From the shadows. Always from the shadows.

He was used to it - being lonely. Being alone. Existing in the fringes of reality, never leaving anything of himself behind. Quiet. Invisible. Nothing more than a ghost, as ironic as that sounded considering his situation. He didn’t want to allow himself to build expectations that this would change, even though he longed for it with all his heart, as he would long for it with his very soul, if he had one. He’d waited for so long… and now that it was within his grasp, he could only feel apprehensive.

It would be a bittersweet victory if it fell apart. Guhn deserved what was coming to him, and that would be good - justice often is. And after that… after that, the mask would fall and Changkyun would see him for who— what he was. And he might not like it.

He hadn’t planned for the chance of rejection. He’d been confident it would all fall into place, as it was supposed to be, but he’d been around long enough to know that even the best laid plans can fail. It was not his decision to make, in the end - it was Changkyun’s. And Changkyun might decide he was better off away from him, as was the logical, reasonable choice.

Of course, Changkyun was not exactly logical or reasonable. He was a wild card, unpredictable and chaotic; always had been. Divining his choice was no easy feat, and Hyungwon would not presume himself good enough to try.

A funny thing, free will.

Being denied would leave him with two choices: he could carry on, wait for another chance - if there was one to be had - or he could— fade away. The latter was the more appealing option; he was simply not strong enough to do it all again. He was never the strong one. It still surprised him that he’d been able to keep going for as long as he had.

Maybe Changkyun would be proud of him for it. Maybe he wouldn’t care.

If he didn’t, then— well. He would have suffered for so many years for nothing. And that was alright - a life without meaning was not unheard of, as life itself has no meaning. Life is given meaning by those who live it and meaning is a matter of choice, but Hyungwon… did he ever get to choose?

_ Yes, you did, you dramatic idiot _ , he told himself in his thoughts. It had been his choice. He could have said no.

Of course, at the time, he couldn’t have known what his choice would entail. He didn’t know he would have to wait so long. He didn’t know how much it would hurt. If he’d known, would he have chosen differently?

...no, he wouldn’t. He didn’t regret his choice or the reasons why he made the decision. It was different this time, though. He had experience now, knew what to expect, and he knew he couldn’t go through it a second time. If it didn’t work, he would rather not try again.

What are two lovers to the fabric of the universe? Nothing.

Best to let life run its course. He would see to Kihyun and Minhyuk’s happiness. No more illness would dictate the direction of Kihyun’s path, and Minhyuk would get all the good things he deserved after so long dealing with the darkness of his past.

He could see their future clear as daylight.

Kihyun would have the house of his dreams, by the beach, and open a small business - humble, but enough to support himself and his two lovers. Legal and safe; Hyunwoo would go on to become a successful boxer, his ‘brothers’ always there cheering him on; and Hoseok would make the best of his second chance by being with both of them - he would run their business with Kihyun, and train with Hyunwoo. Their future was bright, sunny as the place they would settle down at.

And Minhyuk… Minhyuk would make a name for himself as a medium, and earn a lot of money for a few years before deciding to retire and step down from spiritualism entirely. Jooheon would become a baker, as he wanted, and then later in life he would open his own bakery. They would never want for anything again - they would have a big house in a nice neighborhood, and while they would never be able to marry or openly start a family, they would have a pair of dogs. And a daughter. He could see it in his mind’s eye, a little girl they would take in and raise together, as their own. Family - something neither Minhyuk or Jooheon expected to have, and yet Hyungwon could see it keenly in their future.

And Changkyun— the best he could do for him was to make him forget. Erase himself from his memory. Allow him a chance to find a love that was untainted, new, a chance to be happy and—  _ normal _ .

And he would make sure nothing went awry. He would make it so they were all happy. They would forget all about him with time, would spare not a single thought to the white-haired medium they met long ago, but Hyungwon— he would never forget.

That’s what he was, in a way: living memory.

The sun was setting. Changkyun was late.

As he was expecting.

Hyungwon took a deep breath and wiped away the tears he’d only just noticed he’d shed. He looked around at his study, taking in the place where he’d spent so much of his time during the past year. The last time he would ever be there. He was going to miss it.

The show must go on, though. So he raised his head, willed himself to be strong for a little longer, and walked out, his grip on the four pieces of jewelry he’d taken from his collection firm. He would have to stall until Changkyun arrived.

Fine by him - it gave him the opportunity to make Guhn suffer a little. A chance to scare him. It gave him a chance to tell him  _ I’m awake now, and I remember. _

_ I am awake and I remember. _

◦ ◦ ◦

Guhn barreled through the doors of the mansion, head swiveling in search of Hyungwon. He almost missed the sound of his carriage turning away - not back around to the stables, but back down the road. Leaving.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around again. “You! I did not give you permission to leave the grounds!” he shouted at the fast-retreating coachman who didn’t even do him the courtesy of acknowledging him. “Come back here!”

The coachman didn’t stop. Didn’t turn around. Very well - he truly could not rely on anybody in his own home. Useless, all of them.

They would have their turn. Tonight, there was only one being he wished to punish.

He made his way inside the mansion again. The warm glow cast by the setting sun was the only light - everything was dark; the lamps hadn’t been lit in the halls, there was no candlelight anywhere to guide him. The mansion was bathed in crimson as if the world outside was engulfed in hellfire and the mansion was the last safe haven.

Not for long.

He stepped forward, through the open doors and into the foyer, and startled when the entrance slammed shut behind him. He gritted his teeth, his jaw set and eyes open wide, trying to see into the darkness, turning this way and that in search of any signs of his quarry. He would not let Hyungwon’s little tricks scare him. He had the contract on his side. He had the upper hand.

“Hyungwon!” he called, his voice bouncing off the walls and back to him, an eerie echo that spoke of desolation. Of emptiness. He knew better - he was anything but alone. “Show yourself!”

Again, all he heard in response was the echo of his own voice. He stood his ground, paid attention to the long shadows on the floor; he almost expected them to pounce, to rise into solid form, tendrils of darkness that would pull him down, but nothing moved. The mansion was still; unnaturally so.

“I tire of your games!” Guhn shouted into the dark. Again, no reply. “Hyungwon!”

Nothing.

Of course the creature would not reply. It thought it could outsmart him. It thought it could scare him, frighten him into submission. He would prove the fiend wrong - it and its precious pet. He had the grace of God backing him, and he would bring down the Beast, cast it back into the void from whence it came.

“But the beast was captured, and with it the false prophet who had performed the signs on its behalf,” he cited, his voice loud and firm so the thing could hear him, so it could listen to the threat in his words as he walked forward towards the main staircase, “and the two of them were thrown alive into the fiery lake of brimstone.”

He struggled to understand why Hyungwon was being so difficult. Hyungwon was supposed to obey him. It used to obey him, once, and then— then Hyungwon brought the stray home. That’s when it became rebellious, downright defiant, and yet it still did not make sense; the contract was still there, intact, and  _ Hyungwon was supposed to obey. _ That would end soon. He would tame the beast again, put it back in its place, and he would get rid of the other one and his disruptive presence. He would cleanse his home of their profanities, would no longer suffer their disgraceful union.

He couldn’t help but wonder what his father would think were he still alive; a preacher, a holy man. He would likely shame his son for allowing such debauchery under his own roof.

No more. He refused to allow it to continue.

Righteousness ran in his blood. If anyone could tame the devil, he could.

As he put one foot on the first step of the stairs, a sound caused him to stop again and turn around. He held his breath, the sound steadily becoming clearer. Coming closer.

He would recognize that noise anywhere. He still remembered it clearly, how that obnoxious, incessant racket used to drive him mad.

He stared unblinking at the darkness beyond the archway that led down a short corridor to one of the parlors. Despite the remnants of light that filtered through the windows, he couldn’t see very far into it; it was as if darkness had taken solid form, as if it was physically blocking his view. He continued to stare into the void-like blackness, breath held and heart slamming against his ribcage.

The sound came closer and closer, until finally, after what had felt like a century of anticipation, a bright red ball came bouncing out of the darkness, that grating, steady  _ thump, thump, thump _ of it hitting the ground hurting his ears and stirring a long-forgotten feeling of aggravation in him. He could still remember so vividly trying to focus on his work, trying to save the family business from complete bankruptcy, and not being able to because his accursed daughter was playing ball inside the house.

_ Thump, thump, thump. _

The ball continued to bounce towards the foyer,  _ thump _ after more annoying  _ thump _ , until it went completely still once it reached the front of the stairs. Its stop was so sudden Guhn stared at it for a while longer, expecting it to move again, but it didn’t. It just stayed there, unnaturally still at the bottom of the stairs.

He ground his teeth, a cold sheen of sweat beginning to coat his brow. He would not fall for these tricks.

He turned around again, intent on continuing to ascend the steps. He had to get to his weapons. He could not kill the creature, but he could wound it. He could hurt it. Cause it pain. And  _ oh _ , he was looking forward to doing just that.

And if he ran into the stray first— that one he could kill.

Halfway up the stairs, he stopped again and turned back. He thought he’d heard footsteps. Quick little footsteps, a child running around. He narrowed his eyes at the darkness. He refused to fall for it. He knew who was behind it. He knew it wasn’t real.

Knowing it wasn’t real didn’t make it any less chilling to hear the childish laughter that came echoing down the darkened hallway.

He swallowed the fear, still adamant in not giving in to it, and turned to continue on his way up, back on track to putting an end to that charade. Immediately, he froze. Right in front of him, only a couple of steps away at the top of the stairs, was the not-so-familiar image of the boy he’d tried so hard to keep away. He was staring at him, pale, eyes so dark they might as well be two black holes in his face, and yet he could feel it - the judgment, the silent accusation.

Guhn stumbled back, momentarily forgetting he was standing in the middle of the staircase and missing one of the steps - he managed to hold onto the balustrade in the nick of time not to roll all the way down. Elliott was still standing there, watching him with his void-like eyes, and Guhn could physically feel the contempt emanating from them. The boy hated him.

Well, he hated him right back. An unfortunate accident who ruined his life, that’s all he was.

And yet, deep down, buried under a thousand layers of resentment and loathing, there was a grain of guilt. Like a small rock inside his boot, tiny, but impossible to ignore.

He forced himself to do so anyway. As always.

Elliott continued to stand and watch him, his presence solid, so solid it was like a brick wall blocking his path. Guhn couldn’t physically bring himself to keep climbing the stairs, as if something unseen was holding him back.

As a hunter who had been to many hunting parties, he knew not to turn his back on a target, be it predator or prey, but he had to check if the way behind him was clear. He carefully backed down one step, increasing the distance between himself and his son’s specter, and as quickly as he could peeked around to check the landing.

The foyer was empty. The red ball was gone.

The emptiness behind him felt like safety, so Guhn didn’t waste any time - he hurried back down the stairs, deciding that there were other weapons in the mansion. He had other pistols tucked away safely in the den, for one; he couldn’t recall if they were loaded, but if they weren’t, the threat of a pistol would certainly give the fiend and its pet pause.

And where were all the damn servants!?

He could still hear laughter all around him, a high pitched, obnoxious giggling that seemed to echo inside his very mind, making it impossible for him to escape it, impossible for him to ignore it. He turned towards the archway that led to the parlors, the impregnable darkness there causing him to hesitate for a second.  _ It’s not real _ , he told himself, reminding his resolve that this was all a trick, that Hyungwon was behind it all, and braved the shadows.

No invisible hands grabbed him, no apparition stopped him, the darkness didn’t pull him in. He crossed the hallway physically unscathed. The laughing, however— it was still there, everywhere and nowhere, all around him, driving him insane. He walked faster, trying to escape the taunting giggles, but it was no use; it was everywhere.

Wherever he went, the laughter followed him, maddening, the sound of the ball bouncing cutting through the air from time to time, footsteps of a child running around following it. Wherever he went, he caught glimpses of Elliott, be it walking by an entryway or standing in a shadowed corner, the judgment and contempt always present in his hollowed eyes. As he moved to cross a room that would lead him directly to the den he saw the boy again, standing in the shadows by the exit. Guhn stopped, unsure if he should push ahead, walk by the apparition, or if he should turn back and find a different route.

He opted for the latter option - he would go around, through the music room. He backed away from the room he was in, keeping the silent phantasm of his son in sight as he left, and only when he could no longer see him did he turn around and rush away. His daughter's giggling continued to follow him, as did the  _ thump thump thump _ of the ball hitting the ground, as did the ghost of the boy, and he walked faster, brisker, wanting only for that charade to end. He had to find Hyungwon. Force it to stop.

And suddenly, out of the blue, the sounds ceased.

Guhn went still, the sudden silence as impactful as a trainwreck, the shadows appearing to be denser than they were, the crimson light beams on the floor brighter. All he could hear was the frantic beating of his heart and his own raspy breathing, his palms coated in cold sweat, transpiration running down his temples. His muscles were all tense, rigid, a last-ditch effort to keep himself from shaking, from showing any sign that those tricks were affecting him. Hyungwon was watching. He knew so - Hyungwon was always watching. He would not give the creature the satisfaction.

He took a deep breath, forced himself to find his center again. He would not give in to fear.

As he lifted his foot to take the first step, to continue on his way, a new sound cut through the stillness. A note. A musical note. Piano keys. Then other notes followed, forming the beginning of a song he was also quite familiar with.

He would recognize that song anywhere. Chopin’s Nocturne No.20, the same melancholic song his pathetic wife used to play over and over again in their old piano.

Rage flared inside him, scorching hot as if it were the very sun. He was not afraid of his wife, living or dead.

He walked forward with renewed purpose towards the music room. Hyungwon did not play the piano, but he would not dismiss the chance that it could be it - it lied before about many things, maybe it lied about this too. And if it wasn’t Hyungwon, then he would find mousy old Lucille sitting on the piano bench, her long bony fingers moving over the keys like pallid spiders and her sad doe eyes staring morosely down. Pitiful woman.

Upon entering the room, the familiar back of his wife was the first thing he saw, her form not quite solid, but not transparent either. A ghost, yet another one of Hyungwon’s little tricks. She sat there, playing the piano in the dark, the haunting melody adding yet another layer of  _ wrong _ . He didn’t hesitate this time, wasn’t afraid of her. He walked forward with confident steps towards the door that led to the den.

He didn’t acknowledge her. She didn’t acknowledge him. He would have laughed at the irony was he not so unnerved - it was exactly like their marriage had been.

If only he hadn’t allowed himself to succumb to his desires. If only she hadn’t gotten pregnant. Things would have gone much different then - better.

He rectified it, though. He cleared the slate, started over. He had financial sway, even some political power through the right contacts. He was free of an unwanted marriage, he was free of the responsibility of children. He didn’t have to spend hours and hours pouring every drop of his energy into work, night after night, just to pay the bills.

And he was not about to let Hyungwon ruin it.

Fists closed tight to keep himself from shaking, he walked by the ghost of his wife, the sounds of the piano louder there, right next to him as he headed for the door. He ignored her as best he could - yet he still could feel her hatred behind him. He picked up his pace, heading for the door across the room.

There, he stopped again. Both of his children stood there, hand in hand, staring at him with their empty eyes, blocking his way out. He stumbled back at the sight of his daughter - he hadn’t seen her so far, only heard her. To see her— that little spark of guilt flared in the back of his mind again, and he had trouble pushing it back down. He did, though. He did.

He had no regrets. Guilt was not a problem for him. It didn’t weigh on his conscience, didn’t keep him up at night.

He turned, and now Lucille was facing him as well, hatred emanating from her while her fingers continued to run over the ivory keys, the melody becoming faster, the clear notes decaying to something out of tune that hurt his ears and seemed to resonate within his core. There were eyes on him from every direction, it seemed, judging him, hating him, cursing him, and Guhn tripped over his own feet in his haste to escape the room, go back the way he’d come.

The distorted music surrounded him, as did the laughter of his daughter, as did the footsteps and the ball bouncing on the floor, and now it appeared as if there were whispers coming from the walls, taunting him, laughing at him.

Room to room, Guhn tried to escape the phantoms of his family, Hyungwon’s illusions, that maddening cacophony. He lost track of how many rooms he entered, how long he had been running around the mansion looking for a way out. It was as if the ghosts were— herding him. Guiding him somewhere. Or, perhaps, having fun with his misery.

Eventually, he was backed into a corner, all three exits blocked by one of the apparitions, a single closed door the only available route. He took it.

After fumbling with the hande for a moment, he finally managed to push the door open and all but tumbled inside, slamming it shut as if that would stop the ghosts. The moment the door closed, all sounds ceased, the silence deafening so absolute it was. Guhn didn’t move, clutching the door handle as if expecting the ghosts to try to open it, but nothing happened.

He tried to calm himself. It was all Hyungwon. It was just Hyungwon playing with him. There was no reason to panic, those spirits could not hurt him. Slowly, he let go of the handle and turned around to inspect his surroundings. Amidst the confusion of the last few minutes, he entirely lost track of where he was, unable to find his way in his own home.

He recognized the room immediately - the séance room. 

And he wasn’t alone. He could feel a second presence there.

“Hyungwon?” he called, stepping forward, into the dark room. “Hyungwon, I know you’re here.”

Silence was the only reply he received.

He ventured further into the room, closer to the round table in the center. The single candle there was unlit, but the scarlet light coming from outside was enough for him to see his surroundings. He scanned the room with his eyes, peering at every dark corner; no sign of Hyungwon. Yet he was certain it was there, lurking in the shadows, waiting - for what, he didn’t know.

“Hyungwon! Show yourself, this is an order!”

He sensed movement behind him and whirled around, certain he would be met with the creature, ready to wring its neck, yet who he found standing a step away from him was not Hyungwon. He stumbled back, eyes wide with fear, genuine fear for the first time that night. Genuine fear, genuine guilt.

Yet still no regret.

She looked exactly as he remembered her - the big, defiant eyes, the uptilted eyes, the slanted brows, the bow-shaped lips, the dark-colored dress. Of all of them, she was the one who actually held some power over him, the only one who gave him pause.  _ She _ was supposed to be his wife, not her pitiable sister.

She hated him. Always had. He could never sway her.

He stepped back, away from her. “Hyungwon!” he called out, eyes not leaving the apparition before him. “Hyungwon, I know you are behind this!” Another step back. “Cease this at once!”

The ghost came closer, her feet not touching the ground as she kept up with him, coming closer with every step he took to get away. He stepped back as far as he could, until his heel hit the leg of one of the chairs and he could back up no further. The ghost stopped right before him, staring at him with her bottomless gaze.

“Lydia,” he murmured her name, his voice coming out raspy, weak, so he cleared his throat and repeated with more firmness in his tone. “Lydia, if this is truly you, you know you don’t belong here.”

The phantom said nothing. Didn’t move. Only watched him, that judgment still in her eyes, the hatred, the disdain. She had always made him feel so small, so insignificant with just a glance. So powerless. The only one who had ever made him feel like that.

“You are  _ dead _ ,” he said. “You are dead, so leave me be!”

He sidestepped, hoping to reach the other door, the one who was not blocked, but he didn’t go far - he bumped into something, some _ one _ , solid, actually there. He turned and swallowed a gasp of shock - he would not give the creature the satisfaction to hear his distress.

There it was, the beast, eyes rolled back, all white, and a wicked grin on its face.

“You!” Guhn recovered quite fast from the fear, rage once again taking over, ghosts forgotten, and his first instinct was to bring both hands to Hyungwon’s neck. “You think you can toy with me!?”

He forcefully shoved Hyungwon against the table, something so very easy to accomplish due to the wisp-like weight of the creature. Its lower back slammed hard against the edge of the table, but the smile didn’t fade from its face, it didn’t even falter. 

“I’ve had enough of you!” he continued to shout. “You and your little games and your little pet, I’m through! I can’t kill you, but I can kill your degenerate lover, and I’ll do it in front of you, do you hear me!?” He shook Hyungwon, hoping that would get the smile to fall from its face, but yet again, it remained the same. “And once I’m done with him, I’m going to make you pay every penny you stole from me, I’ll make you do séances from dawn until dusk for the rest of your days!”

Nothing served to wipe that smile off of its face, not the threat against its lover, not the threat to overwork it, not the threat of punishment. That caused the rage and the fear to tangle in his chest like vines. His threats weren’t working. What else could he do against the devil?

He slammed the creature back against the table, hoping physical pain would be enough to faze it, the movement causing one of the chairs to topple over to the ground.

“I will cast you out, back to the fires of hell where you came from! God will strengthen and protect me from the wicked one!” Guhn all but shouted, turning to the only weapon he had - prayer. “For I am righteous and to the righteous belongs the kingdom of heaven!”

At those words, Hyungwon blinked, his eyes back to normal, the smile gone, and in a soft whisper he said, “But Charles— you’re not going to heaven.”

Guhn didn’t have enough time to process the situation, much less react to it, when he heard a door open behind him.

◦ ◦ ◦

Changkyun could not recall a single day in his life where he’d ridden a horse so fast. He felt bad for the animal - he made a mental note to give it some treats later. For now, he rushed through the moor, following the path to the mansion.

He could spot its outline in the distance against the darkening sky, and he was immediately gripped with overwhelming concern - there were no lights. The mansion was entirely dark, seemingly devoid of any dwellers, and the implications were grim. It did not help that he’d run into their coachman on the way and had been told that Hyungwon had dismissed him the night prior, and that bringing Guhn to and from town had been his last assignment.

It didn’t sit right with him. Hyungwon dismissed the coachman - that meant Hyungwon was the one behind all the other dismissals, every single servant who had up and left the past few days. Seeing the mansion so dark— were all of them gone?

Was Hyungwon alone in there?

No. If the coachman left— then Guhn had already returned. Hyungwon was alone with Guhn.

Panic rose inside him and he tried to hurry as best as he could, no matter how the horse was already running the fastest it could possibly run, nearly at its limit. The pistol was secured at his waist, heavy, solid, and he tried to take comfort in it; he had the means to protect Hyungwon and himself, he just had to get there.

He was late. He hoped he wasn’t too late. It was as if everything that could have happened to delay him, happened. Blocked off streets, getting lost, crowds,  _ a parade _ .

So it was with extreme relief that he led the horse up the hill where the mansion sat, the sky already dark, the sun completely gone. He didn’t even wait for the animal to stop completely before hopping off its back in front of the mansion’s doors, not stopping the horse when it continued trotting along on its own. Changkyun continued on, pushing the double doors open with surprising ease as if whoever entered last hadn’t bothered to check if it latched properly.

Darkness greeted him, and he had to blink several times to grow accustomed to it, so he could at least make out the outlines of the furniture, of the stairs. The air was still, stagnant, as if the mansion itself was holding its breath.

“Hyungwon!” he called, looking around frantically, listening for any noise no matter how hard it was to hear anything over the sound of his own quickened pulse. “Hyungwon, where are you!?”

No reply came. He stepped forward but hesitated, unsure of where to go. Upstairs, to Hyungwon’s study? To their bedroom? One of the reading rooms? If he chose a destination and it turned out to be wrong, he would waste too much time - precious time.

He was starting to spiral into complete despair, cursing the mansion for being so unnecessarily huge, when he heard a soft  _ click _ coming from the side of the stairs. He didn’t hesitate for even a second and hurried towards the sound - it was the door to the anteroom where he met Hyungwon, the one he found by accident during his first time inside the mansion. The door was open just a bit, but he thought he caught sight of movement within the dark room - a white dress. Long black hair.

He tried not to think about it. It was not the time to play games with ghosts, but as it was the only lead he had, he followed it. He entered the room, at the same time he heard a loud  _ bang _ coming from the séance room beyond, something heavy hitting the ground, followed by what was, undoubtedly, Guhn’s voice. He couldn’t make out what he was saying, not from that distance with a closed door on the way, but he didn’t need to hear it - he just needed the confirmation he was there.

Fast as possible, he moved through the small space of the room towards the door, just in time to catch the tail end of whatever it was Guhn was raving about. 

“...and to the righteous belongs the kingdom of heaven!”

Changkyun took the two steps that separated him from the door and opened it as swiftly as he possibly could, already reaching for the pistol in his waistband. Once he entered the room, pistol in hand and raised, he found Guhn with both hands around Hyungwon’s neck, backing him against the table, one of the chairs on the floor. He couldn’t see Hyungwon’s face very well from that angle, couldn’t tell if he was alright, so he pointed the pistol right at Guhn and shouted, “Hey! Get away from him!”

Guhn whirled his head back, his eyes so wide they seemed as if they were about to pop out of their sockets, a mixture of rage and fear in them, fear that doubled when he caught sight of the pistol in his hand. He let go of Hyungwon and stumbled back, trying to get as further away from Changkyun as possible.

Hyungwon staggered, one hand coming up to his neck while the other was on the table, supporting him. Changkyun hurried to stand in front of him without lowering his weapon, without taking his eyes off of Guhn.

“You cannot kill me!” Guhn said, looking from Hyungwon to Changkyun and back to Hyungwon. He seemed to be talking to Hyungwon, specifically, despite Changkyun being the one holding the pistol. “You cannot, the contract says—” He made to move forward, but Changkyun cocked the pistol like Kihyun had instructed him, the metallic sound making Guhn back away again and raise his hands to indicate his surrender. It didn’t stop him from talking, though. “You can’t do anything against me! I am your superior! Your master! You are supposed to obey!”

By then, it was clear to Changkyun that Guhn was not in his right mind. He could feel Hyungwon moving behind him, straightening himself up, and knowing Hyungwon was alive, that he wasn’t too late, filled him with a relief so immense he could cry was he not still so wound up, so angry.

Guhn had put his hands on Hyungwon again. He’d hurt him again.

Guhn had his hands up. He had surrendered. Changkyun could simply take Hyungwon in his arms and leave. He didn’t have to pull the trigger.

He did so anyway.

He pulled the trigger once, twice. His hands were shaking, but his aim was true - both shots hit their intended target, right on Guhn’s chest. He hoped he’d hit his heart.

Later, he would think back on that moment and realize that Hyungwon didn’t flinch or gasp in surprise upon hearing the shots. Later, it would make sense.

For now, he watched Guhn go down, stumbling back and falling to the ground, still alive, staring at him in equal parts enraged, confused, surprised, and scared. He felt— numb, mostly. Head empty of any thoughts, no panic, no alarm, no regret. He just watched Guhn fall, heard him wheeze and gurgle, and was impassive through it all, almost detached from the moment. He felt nothing.

And then he sensed Hyungwon move behind him again, saw him walk by him towards Guhn, and that’s when reality came crashing down on him, when he realized what had just happened. He dropped the pistol as if it had burned him, palms tingling from the aftershock caused by the vibration of the shots, and stepped back, blood turning to ice in his veins. Heart pounding, head spinning, he watched Hyungwon step towards Guhn’s limp form - still alive, but barely.

“I guess this means you were right and wrong,” Hyungwon said to Guhn, his voice calm, nothing in his demeanor betraying any distress. “You were right in saying pistols are useful, practical weapons, but you were wrong when you said I didn’t need an assistant.”

Changkyun blinked, frowning with confusion, feeling sick to his stomach, light-headed, his heart slamming itself against his ribs like a rabid animal in a cage. What—

He watched Hyungwon stop next to Guhn, watched Hyungwon stare at him for a moment. Guhn tried to say something but only a choked whimper came out, a feeble hand coming up to clutch at Hyungwon’s pant-leg before falling limp to the ground again. Dead. Hyungwon then pulled something out of his pocket, something metallic - a knife? a razor? He couldn’t tell in the dark - and crouched down next to Guhn.

Changkyun swallowed, trying not to spill what little he had to eat that day all over the floor, and called in a weak voice, “Hyungwon?”

Hyungwon didn’t respond, didn’t stop what he was doing. Changkyun wasn’t sure what to think - was he going to stab Guhn, make sure he was dead? Did he just want to make him suffer some more before he died? Did he want to get all the anger he’d bottled up inside of him out, a cathartic way of expressing his feelings?

What happened was none of the things that had gone through Changkyun’s mind. Hyungwon simply crouched down and, with the object he was holding, he cut a lock of hair from Guhn’s head. Then he got up, dropped whatever it was he’d been holding on the floor without a care, and pulled a kerchief from the breast pocket of his waistcoat, which he used to wrap the lock of hair carefully before shoving it back into the same pocket.

Through his jumbled thoughts, Changkyun was taken back to his first proper visit to the mansion, when Hyungwon spoke to him of his collection - mourning jewelry. Made with hair.  _ I am acquainted with them all. _

“Gather only that which cannot be replaced,” Hyungwon said, breaking both the silence and his line of thought. “Only the possessions you cannot leave behind. We’re leaving.”

Changkyun didn’t move. “Hyungwon, what—”

“Go,” Hyungwon insisted, looking over his shoulder to offer Changkyun a smile that was clearly meant to be reassuring. In the sorry state he was in, it worked - anything would have worked. “It’s alright.”

Changkyun let out a shaky breath and nodded in response, before swiftly making his way out of the room, back through the antechamber and up the main stairs to their room. His legs felt weak and his focus was scattered, each footstep a conscious effort not to drop to the ground, but Hyungwon said they were leaving. They were leaving, and he wanted to be out of there as soon as possible.

He made it to their room as fast as his legs could carry him, tripping on the stairs several times - he barely felt any pain. He barely felt anything. All he felt was haste, his only thought to continue moving.

To his surprise, he found the door already open - something that had never happened before. Hyungwon, willingly not locking the door to their bedroom. He didn’t waste time to stop and think about it, instead rushing to his own room to gather his most important belongings. He had to give himself a pat on the back, for most of his prized possessions were all stored in the same place - the music box he’d bought when he was out with Hyungwon. It felt like centuries ago.

The pictures he had of him and Jooheon, a single chipped marble from his childhood, a broken earring that had belonged to his mother. He didn’t own much of anything of sentimental value, he realized as he took the picture of him and Hyungwon from the frame where he’d put it, and placed it inside the box. The silver locket with their portraits, he already had on. Other than that and the contents of the music box, there was nothing he would miss.

He grabbed an old messenger bag he had thrown over a chair and shoved the music box inside, remembering last minute that he had a few jewelry items stored away in his desk - some of them were stolen, some of them were gifted to him by Hyungwon. Pocket watches made of gold, diamond-encrusted bracelets, a ruby lapel pin. He took those too, only because he didn’t like the idea of leaving such valuable pieces behind, and dropped it all haphazardly into the bag. 

That done, bag secured over his shoulder, he made his way back to the room he shared with Hyungwon, and spotted a small suitcase he’d completely ignored on his way in. Looking around, he noticed that a few objects were missing - the most prominent absence that of Hyungwon’s mourning jewelry display. The image of Hyungwon storing a platinum blonde lock of hair in his breast pocket flashed through his mind; another addition to his collection.

So Hyungwon had already prepared for this. He’d already known.

Again, he didn’t stop to think about it, didn’t want to consider it further, not at the moment. If he stopped, he felt like he would not be able to go on.

They were leaving. That’s what he should focus on - everything else, they could discuss later.

He took Hyungwon’s suitcase with him on his way to the door, giving the room one last once over to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything, and left. He crossed the corridor, making his way back to the main stairs in the dark. He’d walked that path enough times already to be able to do it easily, on muscle memory alone, but once he passed and exited the rotunda, he stopped.

Hyungwon was coming out of Guhn’s study. The door was wide open, yet one more thing he’d never seen before. The logical explanation was that, after Changkyun left the séance room, Hyungwon had taken Guhn’s keys from his pocket.

Again, he forced himself not to think that Guhn was dead. That he was the one who’d killed him.

Later. He would process it later.

Hyungwon seemed calm when he raised his head to meet Changkyun’s gaze, betraying no distress, no fear, no concern. In his hand, something that appeared to be a scroll.

“Is that…?” Changkyun began to ask but trailed off, slowly stepping closer to Hyungwon. The fabled contract. At last, he was seeing it.

Hyungwon nodded in response to the question Changkyun hadn’t finished but said nothing else. He simply raised the scroll to eye-level and stared at it for a moment. Changkyun was just about to ask what he was doing, when there was a flare and the yellowed scroll caught on fire, right before his eyes. He didn’t even see Hyungwon light a match.

Changkyun flinched at the sudden flames, took a step back, and yet Hyungwon continued to appear unbothered. He stared at the burning scroll for a moment longer before nonchalantly tossing it inside Guhn’s office.

Changkyun’s heart dropped and he jolted where he stood, unsure of what to do, though his inability to react was short-lived.

“Let’s go,” Hyungwon said, calm as if he hadn’t just set fire to Guhn’s office, as if the flames wouldn’t consume the entire mansion given enough time, as if Changkyun hadn’t just shot and killed Guhn.

Changkyun was too dazed to question, acting only on instinct when Hyungwon took his own suitcase from him and offered him his free hand; he took Hyungwon’s hand, let him guide him towards the stairs, down to the foyer, out of the mansion. Hyungwon’s footsteps were confident and unhurried, so incredibly out of tune with the entire situation. There was no urgency in his actions; it was as if Hyungwon was taking a stroll in the park. Changkyun wanted to break into a sprint, get out of there as soon as possible, but forced himself to keep up with Hyungwon’s leisurely pace as they made their way down the main path.

They didn’t go far.

Hyungwon stopped walking somewhere along the dark path and turned back to look at the mansion. Changkyun followed suit, stopping next to Hyungwon and gazing up at the imposing building before them, already able to see the flames through the windows of the second floor. Changkyun clutched Hyungwon’s hand tighter, scooted closer to him as if it would help him feel safer.

They were silent for a long time, watching the fire slowly make its way through the mansion. What would happen to them now? They would have to go on the run, live as fugitives - murdering someone as wealthy as Guhn would bring a slew of trouble to them. They could be arrested. They could get the death penalty. They had to leave.

He tugged on Hyungwon’s hand. “Won, we should go.”

Hyungwon didn’t respond, didn’t move. Changkyun looked up at him, at the pinched expression on his face, the faraway look in his eyes. Hyungwon seemed to be in the midst of a heated internal debate, the set of his jaw tense, a hitch between his brows. Changkyun wanted to give him a moment to reach whatever conclusion he had to reach, but— they had to go. The longer they lingered, the higher the chances they would get caught.

He tugged on his hand again. “Won?”

Hyungwon sighed, licked his lips, lowered his gaze. Whatever it was he’d been thinking of, it appeared he had made a decision.

A few seconds ticked by. Changkyun waited, watching Hyungwon expectantly until, at last, after what felt like eons, he spoke.

“Once upon a time, in a village just outside Hanseong, there lived the youngest son of a minor lord and the only daughter of the local shaman,” he began. Changkyun frowned, confused by the sudden tale, but didn’t interrupt; he simply listened. “From a young age, the two of them became friends, so close they were hardly ever seen apart. As the years passed and they grew into adults, that friendship blossomed into something more and they soon began to make plans to marry.

“Of course, the young lord’s father was against their union. His son, marrying a commoner, a witch? It was simply unacceptable. The young lord went against his father, set on his plan of marrying the shaman’s daughter no matter the cost.”

Changkyun listened on, a pricking feeling in his chest, in his heart. He had a suspicion about that story, a suspicion that was by then almost a confirmed fact, but he dared not speak up. He wanted Hyungwon to finish. He wanted to be sure. He wanted—  _ needed _ to know.

After a pause, Hyungwon continued. “The lovers came up with a plot to elope, but their plan was discovered by one of the servants of the young lord’s father. Seeking favor, the servant ran to tell his master all about it. It sent his father into a rage, and the order was given: his son was to be sent away and married off to a woman he deemed more appropriate, and the shaman’s daughter was to be beheaded under the accusation of bewitching his son.

“That could not be allowed to pass and the lovers made their final stand by using the last card they had up their sleeves. The shaman’s daughter was indeed a talented witch, and she cast a spell on them - that spell, however, came with a heavy price. For it to work, she would have to be sacrificed.”

Hyungwon’s voice faltered for a moment and he breathed out slowly, shakily. Changkyun allowed him that moment to compose himself, a few seconds of respite before he asked in an unsure voice, “Were you the witch?”

Hyungwon shook his head. “No. You were.”

Changkyun closed his eyes, tried to breathe slowly to calm himself. Just as he suspected.

“The young lord was against it,” Hyungwon continued with his tale - their tale, “and he fought her decision until the end, but her mind was set. ‘It’s the only way’, she told him - and he would have to be the one to do it. He begged and cried, told her that he could never hurt her, but she explained to him why he had to do it. What the spell entailed.”

Changkyun felt sick to his stomach, the flames making his sight splotchy, the heat making him feel like he couldn’t breathe. He closed his eyes, tried to breathe slowly to calm himself. “What would the spell do?” he asked.

Hyungwon glanced down at him, pain clear in his features, before he turned forward to the mansion again. “The spell would bind their souls together and, when she was reborn, the young lord would be able to find her and she would be able to find him,” he said, the words tumbling out of his mouth faster now, as if he wanted to get it over with. “She would die that night, but she would come back to him and they would never part again - that was the promise she made. That spell— that curse, however, would change the young lord into something else. Something more. Something that could withstand the passage of time, something that could wait for her return. Something that could make it so the spell was not in vain.”

On instinct, Changkyun brought a hand up to his throat, to the mole there - his fingertips were so cold in comparison to the rest of his skin, but he barely registered any of it. His ears were buzzing. He felt numb.  _ Did I have my throat slashed _ , he’d once asked Hyungwon.

_ He would have to be the one to do it _ .

The realization tumbled out of his mouth in a horrified murmur. “You— you are the one who killed me.”

“Yes,” Hyungwon admitted at once, pain heavy in his voice. Changkyun peered up at him, vision blurry with tears and the dancing light from the flames that continued to consume the mansion. Despite all that, he could still see, clear as day, the tear tracks on Hyungwon’s face. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

The picture was finally coming together in his mind, though much of it was yet to be uncovered. But this was it - the moment he’d waited for since he met Hyungwon. The day he would tell him everything.

No more secrets.

“The nightmares I’ve been having— they’re memories, aren’t they?” he asked in a whisper.

“Yes,” Hyungwon said. “Yes, they are.”

He tried to swallow around the lump in his throat and found that he couldn’t. He sniffed instead, let go of Hyungwon’s hand. He didn’t know what to think, how he should feel - should he stay by Hyungwon’s side, should he run away? Should he believe any of it or should he pinch himself to wake from the nightmare?

It was a nightmare, it had to be.

He asked the more urgent question first. “Are you going to kill me again?”

“Of course not!” Hyungwon protested, taking a step back as if the question had been a punch thrown at him. He looked so offended, so hurt, that Changkyun immediately regretted asking. “I didn’t want to hurt you then, I definitely don’t want to hurt you now.”

Changkyun stared at him for a long moment, looking for any signs Hyungwon was being untrue in his words, but found nothing. He truly didn’t seem to have any intention of hurting him.

Feeling the slightest bit more reassured, at least regarding his own safety, he asked, “Then what are you going to do with me?”

Hyungwon looked away from him and down to the ground, expression so pained Changkyun felt his heart break for him - although, at that point, he wasn’t sure the sentiment was appropriate.

“I won’t do anything with you, nothing you don’t want me to do.” Hyungwon took a deep breath, several seconds only inhaling, before letting all the air and saying, “I— I understand that this is a lot to take in.”

“It most certainly is,” Changkyun said, a little harshly. “Did you know about this all along?”

“Not all along,” Hyungwon replied, shaking his head. “At first, I felt exactly as you did - a strange connection and a deep need to be near you. I saw glimpses of our future, knew that would become lovers, but I only realized— no, I only  _ remembered  _ the truth once we shared our first kiss.”

Changkyun could still remember the moment clearly - that burst of energy, the way Hyungwon looked at him as if he’d learned all the secrets of the universe, his tears, his smile. Knowing the context of those tears, joyous tears, eased some of the fear - but not the distrust.

“Why didn’t you tell me all of this then?”

“I had a contract with Guhn,” Hyungwon replied, simple, as if that was the obvious answer.

Changkyun stared at Hyungwon with a mixture of confusion and anger. “What does he have to do with anything? With us?”

“More than you think, I’m afraid,” Hyungwon said. “Before I explain that, I— you need to understand something about me. About what I am.”

Dread coiled inside him like a spring. “What is it?”

Hyungwon opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself, a pensive scowl appearing on his face. Once he’d gathered his thoughts, two or three seconds later, he said, “It’s best if I show you.”

Changkyun raised his head to look at Hyungwon fully, lips pressed in anticipation. Hyungwon didn’t look at him - he placed his suitcase on the ground before he straightened up again, then closed his eyes. Changkyun said nothing, watching while Hyungwon took a deep breath and slowly, so very slowly, brought his hands up to cover his face. Changkyun wasn’t sure what to expect, what Hyungwon wanted him to see, but before he could ask, Hyungwon began moving his hands from his face up to the top of his head, over his hair.

Changkyun stumbled back in shock at what he was witnessing.

As his hands traveled over his hair, the pale strands turned dark in their wake, a natural deep brown so different for the pearly-white it once was. Hyungwon let his hands fall limp once he was done, hanging on the sides of his body, head low, his now-dark-brown locks hiding part of his face. Changkyun was frozen to the spot, mouth hanging open.

When Hyungwon raised his head and locked his gaze with his again, his eyes, like his hair, had changed - they were no longer that strange hazel hue, but a brown so dark it was almost black.

Changkyun let out a strangled gasp, eyes wide as he stared at Hyungwon. He remembered asking Hyungwon if his hair was real once.  _ ‘As real as I am,’ _ he had answered.

So, not real at all.

“What—” Changkyun started, his voice barely audible.

“You see,” Hyungwon said, “my contract with Guhn wasn’t a simple business contract. That contract— that contract is what shaped me this past couple of years.”

“What does that mean?” Changkyun asked, taking a tentative step towards Hyungwon, barely blinking as he continued to stare at him. He was far too overcome with shock at the moment, unsure of what would happen to him, to them - yet he couldn’t help to find him beautiful, more beautiful than he ever was. Familiar.

He also noticed that he had an accent now, something small, in the way he pronounced his “Rs” and his “Ss”, which had not been there before. His posture had also changed, no longer straight as if there was a string always pulling him up by the top of the head, but with shoulders slightly slumped forward, head not held as high. Like he was no longer the holier-than-thou aristocrat he’d been thus far, but— someone else.

Himself.

“I— I am what you would call a demon,” Hyungwon confessed in a whisper. Changkyun thought he was done being surprised that night - that admission just proved him wrong. “Guhn summoned me. The death of his family— that was the sacrifice he made in order to bring me here.”

He then reached behind himself and pulled something from his back pocket - four necklaces, all of which Changkyun could recognize from Hyungwon’s mourning jewelry collection, some of the ones he’d assumed to be from the same family - he thought they were of Hyungwon’s family. As it turned out, they were Guhn’s.

He held the four chains before his eyes for a moment and sighed. He seemed— sad. “I take better care of their souls than Guhn took of their living bodies. Of that, at least, you can be certain of.”

“So all your jewelry… all of them are sacrifices!?” Changkyun asked, voice cracking, failing in places, higher in pitch.

“Mhm, most of them, yes. Some are sacrifices, some are those who summoned me in the past.”

That certainly explained why he cut a lock of Guhn’s hair. “Th-then those are souls?”

Hyungwon gave him an odd look. “No. They really are mourning jewelry. They’re more symbolic than anything - actual souls cannot be contained inside such baubles. They make it easier to connect with them, though.”

“B-but— wait, I need—” he stammered, closing his eyes for a long second and taking a deep breath, staggering where he stood. “You… are the Devil.”

“I’m  _ a  _ devil.”

“What difference does that make!?”

“A considerable difference,” Hyungwon said. “I won’t get into it, though - explaining ‘The Devil’ would involve opening an entirely different can of worms and we really don’t have the time to get into it right now. It’s very philosophical.”

“You’re still evil!”

Hyungwon scowled at him. “I’m not evil.”

“You’re  _ a demon!” _

“That doesn’t mean I’m evil.” 

Changkyun scoffed. “That’s exactly what it means.”

Hyungwon sighed, glancing over at the mansion, then at the ground, then up at the sky. “You’re seeing it through the lens of a particular set of beliefs and the dogma of human morality. Again, we don’t have the time required for me to explain this to you, but know this - no being is only good or evil. There is balance in all things, and that includes me. Besides, I am not a demon born, but made - I retained my humanity.” He then scrunched his nose and added, “Or at least  _ most _ of my humanity.”

Changkyun’s head was spinning and he desperately needed to sit down; he still firmly believed this was just a bad dream and he would wake up soon enough. He pushed through it, though, intent on keeping himself focused on what Hyungwon was saying, on keeping his mind open to everything his lover was revealing to him no matter how ridiculous. It was very difficult to do, but he felt like he owed Hyungwon that much.

Regardless of everything that happened that night, regardless of all the secrets, Hyungwon had still done much for him. And he loved him - he was unsure if he could still trust him, but the love was still there, rooted deep in his heart.

He pushed down the anxiety, the confusion, and tried to focus on the facts. Clearly, he would not get very far inquiring about Hyungwon’s nature, and they indeed didn’t have the time to spare for long debates about good and evil. He had to maintain himself on the right course, and the right course was just— the truth. The full, naked truth.

Gripping that new resolve to keep himself together, to avoid plummeting headfirst into panic, he asked, “Why did Guhn summon you?”

“He wanted power and fortune,” Hyungwon replied, pushing the necklaces back into one of his pockets. “A common wish, in fact. I felt compelled to agree, as it is in my nature, and that is when the contract was signed.” Hyungwon lowered his eyes to his hands, to his upturned palms. “When I sign a contract, I— I become what the person who summoned me needs. I take on a role. To grant Guhn’s wish, I became a medium with a unique appearance to attract the masses.” He chuckled bitterly to himself, hands dropping to his sides. “I suppose I got lucky this time and didn’t have to change much beyond my eyes and hair - I had to assume the form of a child once, that was extremely annoying.”

Changkyun decided not to dwell on that particular piece of information; it did make sense, however. Guhn wanted power and money - he didn’t know how he acquired the power, but the money was obviously a direct result from Hyungwon’s séances. That was perhaps one of the most profitable lines of work as of late, and thus, taking the role of a talented medium was the easiest way to build a fortune in a short period of time.

After pondering for a moment, he said, “So you can’t truly speak to ghosts?”

Hyungwon hummed as if considering. “I can if I want to, but— the headaches, the voices, the physical weakness, everything was part of that role. This,” he placed a hand on his own chest, “is my real appearance. My real body. From now on I won’t suffer from any of the ailments that afflicted that persona.”

“So everything was a lie?”

“No,” Hyungwon said immediately, turning to Changkyun, “no, not everything. My feelings for you were never a lie, for one. Nothing you and I shared was a lie.”

Changkyun looked away, didn’t meet his gaze. He wasn’t strong enough to do so just yet.

Since Changkyun didn’t say anything, Hyungwon continued. “Another side-effect of the contract is that I forget the extent of my power, my previous dealings, even my very self, for the sake of the person who summoned me. I become very single-minded not to stray from my purpose. Because of the contract, I forgot all about who I truly was, I forgot about— you,” he said, voice cracking at the end with emotion. “The night we kissed for the first time— I think the strength of the spell that brought us together broke through the haze. It allowed me to remember everything. How powerful I am, what my real purpose was.”

“You did change after that night,” Changkyun admitted. “I noticed. Happier, more confident, exponentially cockier.”

Hyungwon chuckled, though it was a hollow sound. “Yes. Getting a grasp on my sense of self did wonders for my self-esteem.” He paused then, only the sound of fire crackling cutting through the silence for the next few seconds. When he spoke again, there was a frail quality to his voice. “I not only woke up to myself, though - I also woke up to you being there, something I’ve been waiting for so long.”

He glanced up at Hyungwon, insides churning, and whispered, “How long?”

“Four hundred years, to the day.”

Changkyun’s jaw dropped, his eyes went wide.  _ Four hundred years _ . Hyungwon had been waiting for— for  _ him _ for four centuries.

_ I tend to get a bit strange this time of year _ , Hyungwon had told him just the evening before.

Four hundred years to the day.

Changkyun cleared his throat, tried to shake away the shock, and as nonchalantly as he could, he said, “Well— happy anniversary, I guess.”

Hyungwon chuckled, though it sounded more like a hiccup, a sob. “Thank you.” He paused to take a deep breath, and continued. “That night at the circus— that night I decided that I had to get out of the contract, get rid of Guhn, so we could be together without his bothersome presence.”

Those words gave Changkyun a sense of unease. “What did you do?”

Hyungwon looked over at him for a long moment, as if measuring him, as if searching for something, before he answered, “Something that is quite explicit on the contract, on any contract between a demon and a human, is that I am not allowed to kill my master. Too easy to get ahold of someone’s soul through a contract if you can just kill them once it’s signed.”

Changkyun felt as if he should be surprised - he didn’t think demons would be so considerate of humans, that there were rules in place to keep such contracts fair. Considering the discrepancy of a demon’s advantage against a human’s, it did make sense for the demon to have a handicap when dealing with a lesser being.

And how strange it was, to be thinking of demons as creatures that were actually real and not intangible concepts of evil. How strange it was that he was— accepting everything Hyungwon was telling him as the truth. Maybe he should take things with a grain of salt, even in the face of Hyungwon changing his appearance right before his eyes.

Hyungwon was still talking, so Changkyun forced himself to pay attention instead of allowing his mind to go a thought-tangent.

“I can do them harm as long as it isn’t fatal - that’s the first thing I reminded Guhn of. He used that rule against me for too long, for he too could harm me,” he explained. Changkyun vividly remembered the bruises he saw in Hyungwon’s body when they first met - or rather, when they reunited. Hyungwon shot him a weak smile. “You reminded me that I do have a backbone. It kept him in line, which allowed me to bring you to live here with me, at the mansion. He had no say, and if he did anything against you, he knew I would retaliate.”

The memories of all the arguments he’d witnessed between Hyungwon and Guhn, how they often mentioned something in their mysterious contract, how Hyungwon always seemed to have the upper hand. It all made sense now.

Hyungwon continued. “Of course, threatening him into submission was not enough - I was still bound by the contract, and Guhn would never agree to call it off. He loved his power and fortune too much to let go of his goldmine.” A wry chuckle escaped Hyungwon’s lips, bitterness clinging to his words. “I could also not leave his side, no matter how much I wanted to accept running away with you. I could stay away for a few hours, but I always had to return to where I was supposed to be - in this case, the mansion. I was, for all intents and purposes, trapped. That’s when I truly began to plot his demise.”

The revelation had him reeling. All of the times Changkyun had asked,  _ begged _ Hyungwon to run away with him, to come home with him, he had wanted to say yes. Hyungwon had always wanted to leave, to go with him anywhere far away from Guhn, and the only reason why he kept saying no was— he couldn’t. He physically couldn’t leave.

It made Changkyun feel a pang of guilt for being so insistent.

He pushed it down; no point lamenting what he couldn’t change. “What did the plot entail?” he asked instead.

Hyungwon opened his mouth, then closed it as if reconsidering what he’d been about to say. Carefully, he said, “I couldn’t kill him myself, as you are aware.”

“The pistol,” Changkyun whispered, everything now making sense inside his head. “Kihyun gave me the pistol free of charge.”

“It was not free of charge - I’d traded for it beforehand.”

“I know - the cure for his lovers.”

“Yes.”

He stared at Hyungwon, realization and confusion warring in his chest. “Why, though? I could have paid for it myself, why involve Kihyun?”

“That—” Hyungwon stammered and lowered his head again. “I suppose there was a part of me that truly wanted to help him. As a demon, it is in my nature to offer deals and exchange favors, instead of simply gifting them. I saw a chance to further my own agenda, and also help him in the process.”

Well. At least Hyungwon wasn’t completely evil, if he had wanted Kihyun’s lovers to get better. If he really wanted to help. Being a demon did not, apparently, influence Hyungwon’s morals to the point of no return.

“What about the money?” Changkyun asked next. “Guhn’s bank account?”

“That was the best way to make him angry - angry enough to attack me.”

And then it all clicked. Changkyun’s hands were clenched tightly into fists in a feeble attempt to keep them from shaking.

It was all staged. It was all planned. Hyungwon had never been in any danger.

Whatever he had been feeling, anger was much more pronounced in his chest now - he felt betrayed. He felt stupid. How did he not see it before, how did he not notice he was being played?

“You… you used me,” he murmured. “You manipulated me.”

“I did,” Hyungwon admitted, and he could hear the regret in his tone, the guilt. He was staring at the ground when Changkyun raised his eyes to look at him. “I used Kihyun, too. I thought of using Minhyuk at first, but he was far too headstrong and curious for it to work. Minhyuk did serve his purpose in the end, I suppose, by finding out about Guhn’s past and relaying that information to you. But Kihyun— he was just desperate enough not to care for the consequences.”

“You could have made Kihyun kill Guhn if he was so desperate,” Changkyun said, now full-on glaring at Hyungwon. He was so angry he wanted to start shouting - the only thing keeping him level was Hyungwon’s subdued demeanor. He was angry, but he wasn’t heartless, would not kick Hyungwon while he’s down. “Why did it have to be me?”

“Because, if it wasn’t you, then I couldn’t finish what your past-life started,” Hyungwon explained and finally raised his eyes to meet Changkyun’s. It was so strange to look into his eyes - unfamiliar yet familiar. “This— this was my way of doing what you asked of me and getting rid of Guhn at the same time. Two birds with one stone.”

Changkyun wanted to look away, but forced himself not to. He was too close to the full truth and he wanted to look at Hyungwon in the eyes when he finally learned it. “What did I ask of you? What did you have to finish?”

Hyungwon licked his lips nervously as he tried to think of a way to explain. “It wasn’t just about killing Guhn, that was more a bonus than anything. For a while now, I’ve been— corrupting you.”

Changkyun’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Corrupting me?”

“Yes. Encouraging your worst behaviors, your darkest impulses. Your jealousy, your greed, your obsessions,” Hyungwon said. Again, it made sense - he had often wondered why Hyungwon was always so indulgent with him, why he often praised him for his ugly thoughts, for his bad behavior.

“You say you were ‘corrupting me’ and yet you told me you’re not evil,” Changkyun pointed out, almost like a challenge.

Hyungwon seemed unimpressed with the accusation. “I said I’m not  _ entirely _ evil. Again, this has to do with human morality and belief, and I  _ am _ a demon - humans believe demons to be evil, therefore, we feed on the corruption of the soul. Were I something akin to an angel, then I would feed on virtue. It’s a belief-based system that I truly don’t have the time to break down to you right now.”

That explanation - which, in hindsight, was not an explanation at all - felt grossly simplified to his tastes, but Changkyun understood that they didn’t have the time. He hadn’t forgotten he had just killed Guhn, that he would likely be held accountable for his actions, and he wasn’t sure if Hyungwon would do anything to help him get away with murder. So Changkyun filed away all the questions he wanted to ask about angels and demons and whatever a belief-based system was to revisit later, along with all the other questions.

“Alright,” he said. “You were corrupting me. What did Guhn have to do with anything?”

“Everything,” Hyungwon replied. “Indulging your bad behavior would start you down the path, but not take you all the way. Killing a person was the last stage of corruption, although the act of killing would not have been enough - I needed you to  _ want _ to kill him. I needed you to go the distance for the sake of it. I gave you motive, I pointed you in the direction of a weapon, and I waited for you to take those steps on your own, all so I could do what must be done.”

Changkyun tried to ignore the shudder that ran through him and asked, “What must be done?”

Hyungwon looked pained for a moment, hesitant, before he finally said, “Before you died, before I— killed you, you cast the spell to make me what I am - to make me a demon. Killing you was the last step. What sealed both our fates.”

Oh.  _ The act of killing a person is the last stage of corruption _ .

“You want to make me a demon,” Changkyun concluded.

Hyungwon ducked his head. “It’s what you asked of me, yes - to make you a demon, so we could be together forever.” He cleared his throat, and looked away. “Things change, though; it has been centuries, and while I love you as much as I did then, I understand that it might not be the same for you.” Changkyun only stared at him, baffled. Hyungwon spoke rapidly, voice frail around the edges as if he was about to start crying at any moment. “Your soul might be the same but this— this is a whole different life. No matter how much I want this, how much I love you, it’s your choice, in the end.”

Changkyun closed his eyes, breathed in the cold night air, the smoke from the burning mansion before them. There was so much information crammed inside his brain he was amazed that the top of his head hadn’t burst open yet.

“What if I say no?” he asked once he found his center again, raising his eyes to look at Hyungwon.

Hyungwon sniffed and crossed his arms, a defensive stance if Changkyun ever saw any. “Then I’ll leave,” he said, voice trembling. “I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me again.”

Changkyun immediately shook his head, not hesitating for a moment. He felt betrayed and hurt and used, but— “That’s out of the question.”

Hyungwon smiled at the ground, a fragile-looking thing. “At least I know you don’t completely hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Changkyun murmured. He meant it. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to hate you.”

Hyungwon’s smile became a bit wider, though it remained just as sad. “Thank you.” After taking a deep breath, frazzled nerves obvious in the tense line of his shoulders, he continued. “As I said, though, if you don’t want this, then I’ll have no choice but to leave. I want you to have a good life, if you choose to remain human. To have a chance to find someone new, to grow old and be happy. You wouldn’t be able to do that with me, and I— I’m not strong enough to watch you walk slowly towards your grave without being able to do anything about it.”

“Didn’t I tell you once? I’ll always know you’re out there,” said Changkyun. “I’ll always want to go to you. I’ll never know peace.”

Hyungwon shot him a soft look and a resigned smile. “I would make you forget all about me.”

Changkyun shook his head, rejecting the idea. “I wouldn’t forget. Maybe in my mind, but I’d always know, in my heart, that someone is missing.”

Hyungwon lowered his head again and murmured, “Maybe.” He didn’t sound as if he believed it.

Changkyun hated it, hated that doubt; did he not prove his feelings enough? He’d just killed someone for Hyungwon, and there he was, unsure of Changkyun’s feelings for him. It only added insult to injury - after everything he’d done, now Hyungwon had the gall to act as if it all might have been for nothing.

He pushed those thoughts down again. He didn’t want to lose his composure.

He took a moment to get past his indignation, and asked, “And if I say yes?”

Hyungwon looked at him for a few heartbeats too long before he graced him with an answer. “Then you’ll be like me - eternal. And eternity is a great responsibility.”

Changkyun nodded slowly, weighing his options. His feelings. He loved Hyungwon - that hadn’t changed in the last couple of hours, and he didn’t think it would. Angry as he was, suspicious and annoyed as he was with him, he didn’t think he could be without Hyungwon; he was part of him, for good or ill, and the thought of not having him around pained him to the very core. But becoming a demon— it felt like too much.

He wasn’t even sure he fully believed it all - it all sounded like hogwash. He’d seen proof, had seen Hyungwon perform literal miracles, things he could not hope to rationalize, and yet it still felt so alien, so foreign to him to just— accept it. Take it all at face value. Demons and contracts and reincarnation.

He would need more information. If he was to decide, he wanted his decision to be made with all the facts on display.

He squared his shoulders, allowed his new resolve to take over. “If I ask questions now, will you answer them?”

“Yes,” Hyungwon said without hesitating for a second.

“And you won’t lie?”

Hyungwon sighed and gave him an exhausted-looking grin. “What would I gain from lying to you now?”

Changkyun inclined his head, granting that Hyungwon had a point, and asked his first question.

“Is everything we feel for each other just the spell?”

“No. My love for you is genuine, and what you feel for me is real as well,” Hyungwon said. “The spell simply made us want to seek each other out. It never dictated you would fall for me, although I do believe it influenced the intensity of our feelings.”

“It did get better after our first kiss,” Changkyun commented, voicing something he’d noticed long before. “It didn’t hurt anymore.”

“Mhm, you’re right. The spell had served its purpose.”

“And the— the nightmares,” he continued with his questions. “Was it you who caused them?”

To his surprise, Hyungwon shook his head and said, “I thought it was, at first, but no. It caught me entirely off-guard when you told me you were having nightmares about your past life, because I never— it was never my intention for you to remember, at least not like that. I felt so guilty, I thought I was doing it without noticing but… later I realized that it wasn’t me. It was all you.”

Changkyun blinked. “Me?”

“You were trying to remember, but refusing to do so at the same time. The part of you that wanted to remember was not as strong as the part of you who was scared.”

He let out a wry chuckle. “That sounds about right.”

Hyungwon shifted where he stood, crossing his arms tighter in front of himself. “It felt as if my heart was being torn in half. Part of me wanted so desperately for you to remember everything, but the other part hated to see you so upset. I didn’t know what to do, I— I’m sorry.”

“That— that’s alright.” He cleared his throat. He didn’t want to dwell on the subject, so he decided to move on without further comments. Talking about the nightmares always made him feel queasy. “Uh… the photograph we took together. Why wasn’t it blurry?”

“Because I was already me.”

He gave Hyungwon a curious side glance. “So... not a medium with a head full of ghosts.”

Hyungwon gave him a tight-lipped smile in return. “No. Just your regular, photographable demon.”

“So it wasn’t me,” he concluded. “I’m not your stabilizer, after all.”

“No…” Hyungwon seemed genuinely apologetic about it. Something so small, so inconsequential when compared to the rest of it, and yet Hyungwon still found it in himself to feel bad about it. Idiot. “I’m sorry.”

He responded with a dismissive gesture of his hand. It didn’t matter.

“And that night you were standing by the window,” he continued. “What was that about?”

“It was a test.”

Changkyun’s eyebrows went up with confusion. “A test?”

“Yes. I wanted to know if you could hear the voices.”

“I— I could hear them.”

“Mhm. It meant you were almost ready.”

“Almost ready as in— ‘corrupted’?”

“Yes.”

He pressed the bridge of his nose with thumb and index fingers, closed his eyes, and counted to ten. So that’s why Hyungwon looked so pleased when he told him he heard the voices. He had given him confirmation that his plan was going splendidly; he felt like a fool.

“What about your séances?” he asked next, letting his hand fall to his side again. “Did you ever really need my help?”

“No.” Changkyun had been expecting that, but it still stung to hear it from Hyungwon directly; he’d been so proud to be able to be of service. Stupid. “Asking you to be my personal assistant was an excuse to bring you to live with me - it took me some time to figure out a plausible reason for you to move in, but I needed you to be around both me and Guhn to steer you in the right direction.”

“So I didn’t really help.”

“You did, actually - but not me.”

Changkyun turned to Hyungwon and stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out if he was joking. When he realized Hyungwon was serious, he asked, “If not you, who?”

“Minhyuk.”

That only made him more confused. “Pardon?”

Despite the air of melancholy that still clung to him, Hyungwon seemed amused. “Your notepad. The one where you wrote down all your ideas and thoughts about séances? I sent it to Minhyuk, so he can start his own medium business.”

Changkyun blinked several times, mouth hanging open as he tried to process it. “You— why?”

“As I assume you’ll ask what happened to Guhn’s money, I’ll just unveil it all right now - I sent over a box with some gifts for Jooheon and Minhyuk today.”

“Gifts?”

“Yes, and they are truly gifts - no mischief or trades required. I sent Minhyuk your notepad and my tarot deck. And to Jooheon… I sent all the money left from Guhn’s fortune, after using a portion of it to pay the servants. The money, and instructions on how to invest it so they never run out.”

While Hyungwon spoke, Changkyun’s jaw dropped further and further as he tossed the information around in his brain. Hyungwon— didn’t use the money for himself. He gave it all away. To the servants, to Jooheon.

That— what?

“You— you gave all of Guhn’s money away?”

“Yes.”

Changkyun stammered and stuttered. “But… but what about…”

“My own money? I still have it.” Hyungwon’s reply gave Changkyun a manner of comfort; at least they wouldn’t have to live out on the streets.

He almost laughed at himself - ‘they’. He hadn’t even decided yet and he was already thinking about their future living situation.

Hyungwon seemed to know already where Changkyun’s concern was coming from and added, “In fact, I have amassed quite the fortune over the centuries, something I began doing early to prepare for your return. I wanted to provide us both a comfortable life, you see.” Learning that filled Changkyun with warmth - four centuries of working hard for them. Four centuries striving to be ready to welcome him once he returned, four centuries of— hope. “And if you choose not to come with me, then— well. I will give you all of it. I will have no more need for it.”

The warmth immediately gave way to ice-cold dread again. “What do you mean?” Hyungwon looked away and didn’t answer. Changkyun swallowed the panic and reached out to grab Hyungwon’s sleeve. “Hyungwon, what do you mean?”

Hyungwon pressed his lips together, obviously not wanting to talk about it. He eventually said, “I’m a demon. I have no need for earthly possessions.”

It wasn’t a lie and Changkyun could tell, but it was not a complete truth either. “You’re hiding something again.”

“I’m not.”

“Hyungwon.”

“It’s the truth,” he insisted. He looked around, fidgeting, and when he spoke, he sounded as if he was trying to come out as casual instead of nervous. “And if you choose to remain mortal, I… I suppose there will be no reason for me to… to stick around.”

Changkyun’s heart dropped, his chest felt empty and tight. “No.”

Hyungwon let out a long breath and turned to him. “Kyun—”

“No, you’re not going to— to—”

“I’m not saying this to sway your decision,” Hyungwon was quick to say, placing both hands on his arms, trying to calm him. It didn’t work. “I will stay out of your life one way or another, so what happens to me is of no concern to you.”

Changkyun shook Hyungwon’s hands away and stepped back, feeling personally offended by his response. “How can you say that!?”

“Because it’s the truth.” Hyungwon gave him a helpless shrug. “If you choose to remain human, I will make sure you are happy, so happy you won’t ever think about— me.” Hyungwon’s voice broke and he looked away, trying to hide the tears that had filled his eyes again. “And I’ll do the same for Jooheon, and Minhyuk, and Kihyun. Whatever becomes of me, I’ll make sure you all have your happy endings.”

“And who ensures you have a happy ending too?”

Hyungwon shook his head, wiped a stray tear with the back of his hand. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t matter.”

“Stop talking as if I won’t care!” he cried.

Hyungwon didn’t look at him. “I told you, you won’t even remember me.”

Changkyun raised a hand to halt him from speaking, his own head low. “Stop. Just— stop.”

He heard Hyungwon sigh before he said in a resigned voice, “Very well.”

Changkyun didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to entertain the notion that Hyungwon would— that he would be gone. No matter what he’d done, no matter the lies and the scheming and the manipulation, Hyungwon being gone was just— no.

He looked up again. “What if I decide to remain mortal but not let you go? Is that not an option?”

Hyungwon closed his eyes and whispered, “Why would you be so cruel?”

Changkyun looked away again, scowling at the ground. He didn’t know what to say, couldn’t think of a solution. If he chose to remain human, he— he was going to lose Hyungwon. He was going to lose him in every possible way and that… he didn’t know what to do with that. And Hyungwon— did he deserve to end like that, rejected and alone, after four hundred years waiting for him?

The silence between them stretched on, the mansion now entirely engulfed in flames. He could hear the wooden beams cracking, the windows shattering, the fire crackling. He still had much to ask, so he pushed through the despair; the quicker they dealt with their issues, the better.

“Yesterday… when you cried,” he began, and Hyungwon turned to give him his full attention. “The tears were real, I know, but… what were you really crying about?”

“The reason was the same as I’ve told you - the roots just went deeper.”

“Oh.”

Hyungwon offered him another sad smile, and Changkyun hated that he was getting used to seeing it. “I’ve spent four centuries virtually on my own, Kyunie,” he said. “On the off chance I’ve found someone I could call a friend, it never lasted long. No matter the appearance I took, I was always different, always— inhuman. This… it’s been a very lonesome existence.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, because it was all he could say.

“It’s alright.”

“It’s not.”

Hyungwon didn’t say anything in response, simply ducking his head again, looking away. Changkyun wasn’t sure if he still had any heart in his chest left to break for Hyungwon, but whatever was left was breaking.

The silence was shorter this time. Lingering in it was too painful.

Changkyun cleared his throat, straightened his back, and asked, “When Minhyuk said he saw you disappear, what really happened?”

Hyungwon shot him a smug grin, for all that his demeanor was still sad. “I did disappear.”

Changkyun raised an eyebrow. “You did disappear.”

“Mhm,” Hyungwon hummed in confirmation.

“How?”

Hyungwon opened his mouth to reply but closed it again. Then he turned around and started walking away. Changkyun startled and began following— until he blinked and Hyungwon had vanished from sight. He looked around, searching for any sign of Hyungwon, the light cast by the flames enough to see relatively far, and he wasn’t anywhere.

And then something tapped him on the shoulder and he let out a loud yelp, only to turn around and be met with Hyungwon barely biting back a smile.

“What the hell!?”

Hyungwon giggled at his reaction. “You asked me how, I just showed you.”

“You— what—” Changkyun asked, looking at Hyungwon and then behind him to where he’d been previously. “Wait, do that again.”

Hyungwon sighed as if his request was terribly burdensome, not unlike the way Changkyun himself enjoyed teasing Hyungwon, but didn’t protest. He took a step forward, towards Changkyun, and Changkyun braced himself to be walked into but— Hyungwon vanished again, like smoke in the breeze.

Again, he looked around, searching for Hyungwon everywhere. He was stunned and amazed, shaken to his core - he might not fully believe many of the things Hyungwon had told him, but that—

“Do you believe me now?”

Changkyun yelped again and looked up to where the voice had come from, and found Hyungwon sitting on top of one of the tall, unlit lampposts that lined the path to the mansion, dangling his feet almost childishly to emphasize how much of a big deal it was  _ not _ for him to be up there. Changkyun took a few steps to approach the lamppost, looking up at Hyungwon with his mouth hanging open.

“You— get down from there!”

“Alright,” Hyungwon said and— he was gone again.

Changkyun opened his mouth to call for him, but yelped for the third time when he reappeared next to him less than a second later.

“At least give me a warning next time!”

“What’s the fun in that?” Hyungwon asked, laughter in his voice. Something in his chest eased at the sight of his smile, not so sad anymore.

“One of your demon powers, I assume,” he said, fighting the urge to reach out and take Hyungwon’s hand. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet. Wasn’t sure if he wanted to feel Hyungwon’s touch. Wasn’t sure if he should forgive him, if he could trust him.

Hyungwon nodded, seemingly oblivious to Changkyun’s inner turmoil. His smile was gone again, after that brief moment of mirth. “Mm, you could call it that.”

Changkyun took a deep breath to calm himself, focus on their conversation and not his own complicated feelings, and asked, “So this is what you did when Minhyuk saw you disappear?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you go?”

“Did Minhyuk mention the alley where he saw me vanish was right next to the bank?”

Changkyun frowned. “Uh… no, he didn’t.”

Hyungwon hummed as he pondered over his next words. “I went inside Guhn’s vault in the bank and took some money out.”

“Oh,” Changkyun said, then realizing the implications of it he repeated with more emphasis, “ _ oh. That’s _ how you did it!?”

“It was one of my methods, yes,” Hyungwon confirmed. “I can also shapeshift, though. And I can forge Guhn’s signature.”

“You… you are an evil genius.”

Hyungwon looked somewhat bashful at that. Then again, of course a demon would be pleased about being called ‘an evil genius’. “I only used the resources I am equipped with.”

“It’s still a good use of them, I— actually… I thought you did it through witchcraft.”

Hyungwon snorted at the confession. “Didn’t I tell you once that I’m not a witch?”

“You did, but— it’s not like I had any other theories,” Changkyun said, kicking at the ground. “To be able to mess with Guhn’s bank account without leaving the mansion… what else was I supposed to think?”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” Hyungwon granted. “But I’m no witch. You are.”

Changkyun scoffed. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

Changkyun gave Hyungwon a dubious look. “Does that have anything to do with you saying I can read your mind if I try hard enough?”

“It does,” Hyungwon confirmed. “You were a witch in your previous life, a very talented one, and you could see into my mind back then. You can still do much more than you believe yourself capable of, but I think you are still in denial about your own preternatural abilities. If you don’t accept them, you’ll never be able to tap into them to the fullest.”

Changkyun stared at Hyungwon for a long moment, dumbfounded. “So… basically, what you’re saying is that I can do witchcraft.”

Hyungwon nodded. “Yes, if you truly put your mind into it.”

“That…” Changkyun began but stopped himself, taking a moment to breathe out slowly. “That’s quite the idea.”

“You were very powerful then, you can be just as powerful now - with or without me. It’s part of you.”

Changkyun pursed his lips and gazed up the path to the mansion. He didn’t like the way Hyungwon said ‘with or without me’, didn’t like the reminder that he might—

He shook his head, tried to focus on the rest of the facts he’d just been given. So he could practice witchcraft, a remnant of his past life. An interesting thought, one that had never occurred to him, but an appealing one nonetheless.

He turned to Hyungwon again. “Why didn’t I come back as a woman, by the way?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that, for I don’t know the reason myself,” Hyungwon replied with an apologetic little smile. “You’re the only one who knows. I can only presume you were waiting for the right moment to be reborn, or something about the circumstances of your birth in this life called to you. I really don’t know.”

“And you never wondered why? Or were you ever bothered by the fact that we’re both men?”

Hyungwon blinked and tilted his head to the side, reminding Changkyun of a confused puppy dog. “No. You’re you. Why should it matter?”

This time, Changkyun couldn’t help a sheepish smile. “Good answer.”

Hyungwon merely shrugged and said nothing else. Again, Changkyun was overcome with the need to reach out and hold his hand; again, he ignored it.

“What about Jooheon?” he asked. “Will I see him again if I say yes?”

“Of course,” Hyungwon replied. “It’s not as if you’ll be sent to a different dimension, you can visit him whenever you want.”

“Oh. That’s good to hear,” Changkyun said, sounding somewhat lame for all that he was both relieved and glad that he wouldn’t have to leave his best friend behind forever.

He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, feeling Hyungwon’s gaze on him, likely waiting for his next question. He didn’t have any other questions, not really - he felt like he knew enough, at least concerning all that has happened since he met Hyungwon. In this life, at any rate.

Changkyun cleared his throat and asked, “So… being a demon. What is it like?”

Hyungwon considered it for a moment, a pensive frown on his face. He looked so beautiful, Changkyun thought, bathed in the light of the flames, his skin almost glowing with it, his dark eyes gleaming. To never see him again— 

“It’s not bad,” Hyungwon said, interrupting his train of thought. “It can be a little lonely, and I admit I get bored easily with so much time on my hands — though I’m not sure that would apply to you. Some contracts are also unpleasant but, overall, it’s quite nice.”

“And we would be together?” he asked, looking up at Hyungwon without blinking. “Forever?”

Again, Hyungwon considered the question for a moment before replying. “We would both be eternal. If we stay together for eternity or not, I suppose it’s for us to decide.”

A reasonable answer, something he hadn’t expected - Hyungwon wanted to him to say yes, and that was obvious from the eager glint in his eyes, but he was not doing much to sell the idea to Changkyun. He was being very down to earth, very realistic - almost pessimistic.

Honest. Hyungwon was being honest.

Changkyun took a deep breath, taking this into consideration, and said, “I see.”

“It’s up to you, in the end,” Hyungwon said. His voice sounded strained. “I’ll respect whatever decision you make.”

He could hear the truth in that - Hyungwon would, indeed, accept Changkyun’s decision, whatever that decision may be. It didn’t help him decide, on the contrary; he felt even more burdened because, whatever choice he made, he would have to live with it. There would be nobody else to blame if he came to regret it.

Although— he could only see himself regretting one of the two paths laid out before him.

He finally gave in to his desire to be near Hyungwon and stepped closer to him, into his personal space, so he could lean against him, rest his head on his shoulder. Hyungwon hesitated, unsure how to react, what to do, and it killed him inside to see him so uncertain - that morning, Hyungwon would not have given a second thought to wrapping his arms around him in return. Now— 

Changkyun closed his eyes, breathed in Hyungwon’s familiar, comforting scent - this made him pause and open his eyes again.

“You smell different,” he said.

Hyungwon chuckled, a soft, barely-there sound. “Bad different?”

“No. You used to smell like flowers and honey, now you smell like flowers and— peach,” he mused. “I think I like it better than before.”

Hyungwon relaxed a bit, hands coming up to rest on Changkyun’s shoulders as if he wanted to embrace him but was holding back. “I probably smell like flowers because of the bath products I use. Now peach— I’m not sure where that comes from.”

“It’s probably what demons smell like.”

Hyungwon snorted. “I never met a demon who smells of peaches, though.”

“Well, I like it.”

“That’s good to hear.”

They were quiet for several seconds, Changkyun for being too busy sorting through the many thoughts rushing through his head, and Hyungwon— he assumed Hyungwon was trying to give him a moment to get his bearings. He was thankful for it. He just needed a moment, a minute to find his axis, get back on track. So much had happened in less than twenty-four hours - from his confrontation with Hyungwon the night before, to their rude awakening that morning, to his quest for a weapon, to the fear of coming back too late, to— to killing Guhn. To learning the full truth about the person he loved the most. The truth about himself.

He just needed a minute. He needed to breathe, he needed to— to not think for one second. To not feel anything, to have a moment’s respite from the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Unable to hold back any longer, he snaked his arms around Hyungwon’s waist, hid his face against the curve of his neck. Hyungwon hesitated again, but he must have sensed that he needed it, needed  _ him, _ and carefully held him in return. Changkyun exhaled slowly, already feeling much better. Being in Hyungwon’s arms was familiar. It was… safety. Demon or not, liar or not, it was still Hyungwon. It was him in every gesture, every word, every smile, no matter how sad.

Changkyun understood the implications. He knew Hyungwon had been untrustworthy from the very beginning, and yet— knowing what he knew now, could he fault him? He did what he thought he was supposed to do. What he promised he would do. And it was, ultimately, for their benefit - for both of them. The break of trust was not something they could fix on the spot; it would take time and work, but he firmly believed they could have it back.

And he loved him. He loved Hyungwon, human or not, medium or not, demon or not. Much of it was upsetting, of course it was - but he loved him.

And if he was being completely honest with himself… Hyungwon didn’t  _ actually _ do anything. He didn’t force him to behave the way he did. Hyungwon said it himself - he encouraged only that which was already there. He said he’d been corrupting Changkyun, but Changkyun had been rotten from the start. All Hyungwon did was heighten those traits of his, bring them forth, to the surface of his being.

Hyungwon could only be blamed for the manipulating aspect of the entire situation, the way he played chess with his feelings and anticipated every move. And he’d won - the checkmate had sounded like gunshots.

In hindsight, the only thing that made him upset was the way Hyungwon put himself in danger when he was never really in any danger. He was immortal. Sure, he felt pain - but that was about it. His life was never on the line like Changkyun so firmly believed.

His own life had been, though. Guhn could have killed him; one mistake would be all it took, one wrong prediction, one moment of distraction. He had been in more danger than he first assumed, and he’d never known. And Hyungwon was the one to put him in that situation.

And yet—

He didn’t regret pulling the trigger.

Changkyun took a deep breath and pulled back the slightest bit, just so he could see the black satin ribbon around Hyungwon’s neck - the scorpion cameo. For the first time, it didn’t spark in him any jealousy.

“You know,” he said, keeping his voice low, trying to maintain the intimacy of that moment, “for a long time, I was scared you were only with me because I reminded you of your past lover.”

Hyungwon chuckled through his nose and shook his head. “It’s always been you.”

Changkyun let a delighted burst of giggles escape his mouth before he even knew it was happening and hid his face against Hyungwon’s neck again, too embarrassed at the sound he made to allow Hyungwon to look at him. Once he recovered, he asked, “What was I like?”

“You were—” Hyungwon started but trailed off, laughing to himself almost incredulously. “This will sound like a lie, but you were exactly the same as you are now. Not only physically - I’ve mentioned it to you once, and I was being honest. You looked almost the same. And your personality, your quirks, your mannerisms, everything is the same.” Changkyun smiled against his skin, the warmth in Hyungwon’s voice soothing him like few things could. “You were a woman far ahead of our time, always moving to the beat of your own drum. You didn’t care about social norms, didn’t care about behaving the way it was expected of you - truly a witch in more ways than one.” Hyungwon stopped talking then and pulled back, cupping Changkyun’s face with his hands gently, as if he would break at the slightest pressure. He gazed at him for a moment, eyes full of love - love, and sadness. “I still wonder what you saw in me, what was it about me that caught your eye,” he confessed in a lower voice, almost a whisper. “My life was bleak, and you came along bringing color and magic. I was in awe of you. I still am.”

Changkyun held Hyungwon’s gaze; he wanted to kiss him. He wasn’t sure if he should.

His eyes fell to the scorpion cameo right in front of him, and in a shaky whisper he asked, “Can you make me remember?”

Hyungwon’s expression became tense, his eyes concerned. “I— I can, but— are you sure? It’s… some of it is quite painful.”

“I need to know everything, Wonnie,” he said, meeting his gaze again. “I need to remember. And if it’s painful— it’s only fair for me to carry the same pain you’ve been carrying for the past four centuries.”

Hyungwon dropped his head and looked away, pain written in his features. After a moment to gather himself, he nodded to agree. Changkyun held his breath, watching as Hyungwon brought his hands to the back of his neck to untie the ribbon that kept the pendant in place, slipping it off carefully before holding it up in front of Changkyun.

“You need but to touch this. You’ll remember.”

“Just touch it?” he asked, remembering the urge he’d felt to touch the pendant the evening when he first saw the woman in white - his own past self, he now realized. “If I had touched it before I would have remembered?”

“Possibly.”

Changkyun scoffed and shook his head at himself. He could have put an end to it sooner if only he hadn’t been so squeamish about touching human remains - his own remains, as it turned out, and wasn’t that a disturbing realization. He decided to later press Hyungwon regarding how, exactly, his remains came into his possession; it felt like a story he needed to hear.

Later, if everything worked out well - if Hyungwon didn’t leave, if Changkyun himself wasn’t overcome with whatever he was about to remember of his - their - old lives. For the moment, he rolled his shoulders, inhaled deeply to prepare himself, and reached for the cameo.

Hyungwon retracted his hand just before Changkyun could touch it. “It will be unpleasant,” he warned, that concerned tone heavy in his voice.

Changkyun gave him an annoyed look and, without saying a word more, reached out and closed his hand around the pendant.

It immediately felt as if his skull was being torn open, a  _ zap _ of energy coursing through him as if he’d been struck by lightning. He felt nauseous, every muscle in his body rigid, his vision spinning.

And through the pain, he saw it. The images flashed through his mind in quick succession, and he could remember every sight, every smell, every sound.

He saw a young boy, who he immediately recognized as Hyungwon, the same eyes, the same smile.

He saw a pond surrounded by flowering apple trees in full bloom, he heard Hyungwon’s laughter - and his own.

He saw a dark room filled with herbs, a book filled with strange symbols.

He saw tall grass blurring past him, felt it scratching his skin, saw he was holding Hyungwon’s hand as he ran, and heard angry voices shouting behind them, the heavy footsteps of the men giving chase.

He saw Hyungwon crying, saw himself pushing a dagger into his hands and telling him ‘ _ do it’ _ .

He heard him beg him in turn, heard his pleas, how he didn’t want to hurt him, and heard himself say ‘ _ you have to’. _ He heard him say he loved him.

He heard himself say it back.

He heard Hyungwon’s wail as he finally used the dagger, and then—

Darkness.

Changkyun came back to the present with a loud, desperate gasp for air, clutching Hyungwon’s arms as he hyperventilated, face wet with tears, heart pulsing so fast and so hard he thought he was about to die.

“Changkyun, look at me,” he heard Hyungwon say, urgent but gentle, and forced himself to raise his eyes to meet his. He’d never seen Hyungwon so worried before. “Focus on your breathing, try to match mine.”

He had trouble making sense of the request but, after a few seconds, he noticed that Hyungwon was holding one of his hands against his own chest and trying to coax him into mimicking his breathing pattern. Changkyun forced himself to focus through the myriad of overpowering emotions he was feeling; breathe in, hold it, breathe out slow. It was hard to manage it when he was sobbing while trying to control his breathing but, eventually, it became easier to breathe, easier to think.

When he felt a bit more in control, he latched himself to Hyungwon, holding him so tight he might leave bruises. Hyungwon held him back right away this time around, just as tight.

“It’s alright. You’re alright,” Hyungwon murmured next to his ear, one hand cradling the back of his neck while his other arm was wrapped around his middle, keeping him upright - Changkyun would have already fallen to the ground were Hyungwon not holding him.

“I’m sorry,” Changkyun babbled, “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry for making you do it, you didn’t want to do it, I—”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Hyungwon said and held him tighter. Changkyun clutched the fabric of his shirt on his back, latched onto it for dear life. “It all worked out, Kyun. The spell worked.”

Changkyun’s only response was to sob pathetically, face hidden against Hyungwon’s shoulder. He remembered every little thing now, everything he’d done, said, and thought. Every moment he’d spent with Hyungwon, the plans they made, the dreams they had. The first time they saw each other, their first kiss, their first night together. He remembered when and how it all went wrong. He remembered their last moments, the last words they exchanged, their last kiss.

It was all there, in his brain, mixed together with the memories of this life, and it was all so incredibly clear it made him dizzy.

And he knew, now, who was really to blame.

Everything Hyungwon had done, all the lying and scheming and manipulating, Changkyun had done much worse - Hyungwon had been good, once. Truly good. He’d been kind and humble, caring, innocent. And he’d been like that almost all his life, and little by little he— changed. He became… corrupted. And it was all because of him - Changkyun was always the rotten one, the greedy, envious little rat and, like an infection, he had slithered his way into Hyungwon’s bloodstream, set him on that path - he was the true mastermind behind it all, not Hyungwon. Hyungwon was the marionette.

It didn’t matter if he couldn’t remember it until two minutes ago - the responsibility was still his.

“Look at me, accusing you of using me when I’ve been using you for centuries,” Changkyun said, voice sounding strangled through his heaving sobs. “Why did you let me do this? You idiot, you should have stopped me when you had the chance, you should—”

“I didn’t want to stop you,” Hyungwon interrupted him, the gentleness in his voice almost dissonant with the despair of that moment. “I agreed to all of this because I wanted to.”

“You never asked for any of this, look what I put you through!” he cried. “You were so good, Won, so good.”

“I was weak,” Hyungwon replied, firm, assertive. “I was a coward who never stood up for myself, and I would still be like that if it weren’t for you. Nothing you— we did was without my consent. I wanted this as much as you.”

He shook his head, rejecting those words. Hyungwon had never been weak - sheltered, but not weak. Hyungwon was raised to obey, so of course he would be conditioned not to speak up for himself. And then Changkyun had come along and taught him to lie. Taught him to be opportunistic and shrewd. Ruthless. Changkyun was the one who taught him to stop at nothing to achieve his ends.

It went to the point where even their beginning had been a lie - Changkyun had approached Hyungwon not because he saw a sad young boy playing alone, but because he’d known Hyungwon was rich, that he’d come from a powerful family. He became friends with Hyungwon because he saw the benefits of befriending him.

The love came later - and the love had been real. Was still real. He loved him enough that he’d been willing to die for the chance of being with Hyungwon forever.

Knowing that… it changed everything.

“I wish I’d done better by you,” Changkyun said after a long moment, taking a shuddery breath in an attempt of controlling himself. It worked, to some extent. “I suppose it’s too late to lament the past now.”

“Indeed,” Hyungwon agreed as he began to rub soothing circles on Changkyun’s back. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“Just hold me like this for a while longer,” he requested in a whisper. Hyungwon gladly obliged.

“Keep focusing on your breathing,” he advised in a soft voice next to his ear. “In retrospect, I should have waited to set the mansion on fire - this conversation should have been had when I was able to fetch you a glass of water.”

Changkyun let out a small chuckle through his tears. “And when there were chairs for me to sit down on.”

Hyungwon snorted. “Forgive me. Rookie’s mistake.” He felt Hyungwon nosing at the side of his head affectionately, felt him hold him tighter, closer. “You’ll feel much better once you have a chance to rest and make up for all the sleep I’ve deprived you of.”

“Oh? Keeping me up at night was part of the plan too?”

“Lack of sleep clouds the judgment.”

Changkyun huffed, unimpressed. “Demon.”

“Mhm.”

He snuggled closer to Hyungwon, deeper into his embrace, and breathed. His head was throbbing, his limbs shaking, muscles twitching, but he felt— better. Not much, but enough to be able to think. His mind was stuttering, his thoughts were scattered and jumbled, but he was able to make some sense of things, now.

“It must have been very amusing to you,” he said once he felt calm enough, “to watch me be jealous of a pendant made of my own remains.”

Hyungwon giggled next to his ear; the sound was all he needed for the last bits of hesitation to bleed out of him. “Not as amusing as you trying to impress me in bed so I would forget all about your own self.”

“Goodness, I’m such an asswipe,” Changkyun said with a mirthless chuckle. He pulled away from Hyungwon, only enough that he could look up and meet his gaze, and gave him a smug grin. “At least now I can appreciate the fact that I am the only one you’ve ever been intimate with.” Hyungwon bit his lips and ducked his head, cheeks dusted pink in a way that was not at all demon-like. Changkyun grinned up at him, heart swelling with affection. “I love you, angel.”

Hyungwon’s smile widened, be it at the confession or the ironic nickname or both. “I love you too.”

Changkyun rose to the tips of his toes to press a long yet chaste kiss to Hyungwon’s lips, one Hyungwon gladly reciprocated, before he peered up at him with a more serious expression. “What happens now?”

“Now… now you make your choice, I suppose.”

Changkyun lowered his head and closed his eyes, forehead resting on Hyungwon’s chest. His choice— 

Was there truly a choice? It felt as if his path was a clear one - everything they’ve done, everything they’ve been through, all the years Hyungwon had to wait for him. He had died for this. He had forced Hyungwon to kill him for this, forced an eternal trauma onto him for this.

Changkyun would never throw everything away, would never make it so all of their efforts were for naught.

Besides— whatever future he was to have, he wanted to walk it with Hyungwon by his side.

There was no choice - their choice had already been made long ago.

Commitment was all that was left.

He licked his dry lips, his body shaking but now for very different reasons. When he raised his head to meet Hyungwon’s gaze, he found the now-brown eyes watching him expectantly, irises seeming almost alive with the way they reflected the flames. Beautiful.

“What was that quote you cited to me once?” Changkyun finally said. “Ah, yes: ‘Better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven’.”

Hyungwon’s lips parted, a shaky breath escaping them. He looked both surprised and relieved, and Changkyun couldn’t help but think that Hyungwon was an idiot - as if he would ever choose otherwise. That stupid demon of his.

Hyungwon shook himself and cleared his throat, moving a couple of steps so he could retrieve the suitcase he’d left on the floor. Changkyun followed him, and tugged on his sleeve.

“You forgot this,” he said, showing him the scorpion cameo that was still in his hand. Hyungwon moved to take it back, but Changkyun kept it out of his reach. “Turn around, baby.”

Hyungwon raised an eyebrow at him but obliged, and Changkyun carefully put the necklace back where it belonged, around Hyungwon’s pretty neck, tied the ribbon up with a neat bow - neat and firm, to make sure it would not fall off. And that was, perhaps, the loudest and clearest statement Changkyun had ever made.

When he turned around to face him again, Hyungwon had a blinding smile on his face, and right there, Changkyun knew he’d made the right choice. He promptly took his hand when he reached out for him, and as he threaded their fingers together, Hyungwon said, “Let’s go home.”

“Where is home?” Changkyun asked.

“Wherever we want it to be.”

Changkyun accepted that with a nod and a smile, and allowed Hyungwon to take the lead, guiding him into the moor, into the dense fog that had started rolling in, the flames that continued to consume the mansion illuminating their path until they finally entered the mists.

And were gone.

◦ ◦ ◦

Jooheon rolled out of bed as soon as the sun rose that morning. He’d barely slept, tossing and turning all night, a thousand different scenarios going through his mind and none of them good. His chest felt tight with concern - something was wrong, he could feel it in his heart. Changkyun needed him.

Minhyuk was still asleep and stirred when Jooheon got up, stretching a hand across the bed in an attempt of reaching him. “Honey?” he called, voice scratchy with sleep and eyes not yet open.

Jooheon smiled despite the concern. “Go back to sleep, Minhyukie. I’m going to go check on Changkyun at the mansion, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

Minhyuk blinked blearily up at him. “Wait, I’ll— I’ll come with you.”

“I’ll be fine, I’ll just go, make sure he’s not in trouble, and be back before you know it,” he promised, brushing his fingers through Minhyuk’s messy hair. “Keep the bed warm for me?”

“Mm, alright,” Minhyuk mumbled in response, and had fallen back asleep less than two seconds later. 

Jooheon took a moment to lean over him to press a kiss to his head, smitten and fond and bursting with love, before hurrying to wash up and change. He’d never gotten ready so fast in the morning; he didn’t even bother to have something to eat for breakfast - it felt as if each second that ticked by was a second wasted, a second he should be using to get to Changkyun. The only reason why he hadn’t gone to the mansion the night before was because Minhyuk reminded him of the mists and how dangerous it would be. Urgency aside, putting himself in danger would have been silly, as he didn’t know what was happening - maybe Kyla had been right, maybe they were just moving out of the mansion and he was worrying over nothing. His intuition said differently, but the right explanation is usually the simplest one.

And yet— Hyungwon said in the letter that he would be gone. He said Changkyun would contact them, but… there was a strange finality to Hyungwon’s words when it came to himself. A definitive goodbye that didn’t allow much room for speculation.

Hyungwon would be gone - whatever that meant. Jooheon didn’t know how to interpret it. Hyungwon had given Minhyuk his tarot cards, a sign he would have no use for them anymore, plus a small fortune he didn’t seem too worried about parting with. Moving away would require money, Jooheon knew, and while the contents of that box were most certainly not Hyungwon’s entire fortune, it was still quite the impressive sum. Hyungwon parting with his possessions… he was either dying or joining the priesthood.

If something had happened to Hyungwon, then Changkyun would be devastated. Jooheon wanted to be there for him if that was the case, and if not then— then he had to find out what the hell was going on at the mansion. He had to go over there, check on Changkyun, and hopefully bring him home - with or without Hyungwon.

No more than ten minutes after he’d gotten up, Jooheon was hurrying down the stairs of the apartment building, still empty at the early hour. He hoped he would find some manner of transportation to take him all the way to the moor. Maybe borrow a horse from an acquaintance?

He stepped through the front doors, into the streets, and turned to make his way to Mr. Brian’s place, certain that he would be able to help him, when a familiar voice stopped him.

“Going somewhere?”

Jooheon nearly tripped on his own feet and whirled around to face his best friend, standing in front of the building with his hands in his front pockets and an amused grin on his face. Jooheon’s knees nearly buckled with relief.

“Kyun!” He rushed over to him and wrapped him in a tight bear-hug that had Changkyun gasping for air. “You’re alive!”

Changkyun snorted next to his ear. “Of course I’m alive, where did that come from?”

Jooheon let go of him and stepped back, staring right into his eyes for a long moment. Up close and under the morning sun, he could see his features well - the dark circles weren’t there anymore, the color had returned to his cheeks, his eyes were bright and alert, expression calm. It was almost as if he had imagined his haggard appearance from the last time he’d seen him - just some forty-odd hours prior.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Changkyun gave him a shrug. “Never better.”

Jooheon frowned at him suspiciously. “Is Hyungwon alright?”

“Also never better,” Changkyun replied as his grin widened. “I came here to give you the news, actually. Hyungwon and I will be gone for a little while.”

“Gone?”

“Yeah. Traveling.” The understated answer only caused Jooheon to stare at Changkyun with more suspicion, which was likely the reason why he decided to elaborate. “His business with Guhn— it went up in flames. We decided to take a little vacation to celebrate.”

“His business with Guhn is over?” Jooheon asked, one eyebrow raised. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Changkyun said. “I didn’t want to just up and leave without telling you in person, so here I am.”

“Will you ever be back?”

Changkyun’s entire demeanor softened. “I will. It’s— a couple of things have happened, you see. Some changes. Wonnie and I need some time off on our own to figure things out, but we’ll be back before you know it.”

The more Changkyun talked, the less things made sense. “Changes? What changes?”

“Nothing you need to be concerned about,” Changkyun promised and, for some reason, Jooheon believed him. “I’m fine. Hyungwon is fine too.”

“In the letter he sent to me and Minhyuk last night, he said we would ‘be rid of him’. Are you sure he’s alright?” Jooheon asked. Disliking Hyungwon never meant he wished him ill - he was worried about him. So was Minhyuk, if the way he paced about the apartment for almost an hour after receiving the box was anything to go by.

“I promise you, he’s alright.” Again, Jooheon believed him in spite of his unease. “I told him he was being silly, but… he said he would rather keep his distance. He knows you and Minhyuk don’t like him much, so he won’t come around anymore.”

Jooheon’s cheeks became hot with shame and he looked away from Changkyun, down at the ground. “That’s— that’s not—”

“It’s fine, Jooheon. We all know it’s true.”

“It’s— if he wants to come over to visit, he can,” Jooheon said. “It’s not as if we’d turn him away.”

Changkyun sighed, his smile turning a bit sad. “He knows. He has his mind made up, though.”

Jooheon swallowed hard, kicked at the ground. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Changkyun said and gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “But as I said, he’s doing fine. And he’s probably waiting for me, so I should be on my way.”

“O-oh, alright,” Jooheon said, and scrambled to give Changkyun another bone-crushing hug; Changkyun held him back just as tight. “Be safe out there.”

“Always am.”

“And come back,” Jooheon said, pointing a finger at him to emphasize that this was an order. “Don’t you dare become some sort of well-traveled dandy and forget all about your best friend.”

Changkyun cackled. “I won’t, promise.”

“And…” Jooheon started, uncertain, arms falling limp at the sides of his body. “Tell Hyungwon… thank you. From both me and Minhyuk. We’ll make good use of the money he gave us.”

Changkyun smiled and nodded to agree to his wish. “I’ll let him know.” 

They stared at each other for a moment longer, a thousand words exchanged in their silence, and, with a last parting pat on his shoulder, Changkyun walked by him down the street. Jooheon watched him go and began moving to go back upstairs, rejoin Minhyuk in bed and try to get some sleep. Just as Changkyun was turning a corner, though, Jooheon remembered he had left his passport and other documents upstairs in the apartment. If he was going to travel with Hyungwon, he would need his documents.

He ran after Changkyun, only about five seconds behind him, but when he turned the corner where he’d seen Changkyun walking, all he found was a long, empty street.

Changkyun had vanished as if he was never there at all.

Jooheon made it all the way back to their apartment, somehow present enough through the shock to do so. Minhyuk stirred again, and frowned when he opened his eyes and saw Jooheon sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Honey?” Minhyuk called, sitting up as he stared at Jooheon with concern. “What happened? Did you change your mind about going to the mansion?”

Jooheon opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to find his voice. When he did, what he said was, “Remember when you saw Hyungwon disappear?”

Minhyuk seemed ever more confused, more concerned. “Yes, I remember. What about it?”

“I believe you.”

◦ ◦ ◦

“Come on, Ki, you’re taking too long!” Hyunwoo called from the ship, Hoseok already by his side watching the two of them bickering with amusement in his eyes.

Kihyun huffed and shot him a sideways glare from the walkway below. “These are  _ books _ . They’re  _ heavy _ .”

Hyunwoo rolled his eyes and laughed, but did finally cave and made his way down the ramp to help Kihyun carry the box he’d been dragging along. The last one - all their other possessions were already on the ship, everything ready for them to set sail. The weather was bright, the first sunny day in weeks, so their voyage would start off in the best possible conditions.

Moving away was a sudden decision, and they had certainly worked fast to put the new plan into motion - they got home the afternoon prior, after a quick trip to the cathedral per Hoseok’s request, and immediately set off to start packing everything they owned into crates and large chests. Kihyun had been unsure at first, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked Hoseok’s idea. Starting fresh somewhere new was not a bad plan at all - this city was filled with terrible memories of terrible days; wherever they went, the reminders of their struggles were there. Everywhere. 

Better to move away. Make new, better memories. Happier memories.

Upon reaching the deck, Kihyun let out a tired huff and allowed himself to sit down atop the crate of books for a moment, just to catch his breath. Hyunwoo hadn’t even broken a sweat, damn him and his perfect physique, and was watching him while clearly biting back his laughter.

Kihyun chuckled to himself and pushed him on the arm, good-natured. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Hyunwoo said in his own defense, laughter in his voice. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll pull up the ramp and we can go.”

“Go ahead, this was the last one.”

Hyunwoo agreed with a short motion of his head and moved to do as he’d said. After a few more seconds, Kihyun pushed himself up from the crate, stretched his arms over his head to shake away the stiffness in his bones, and walked over to where Hoseok was standing by the rails.

He had a small hitch between his brows and was staring over at one of the warehouses beyond, looking thoughtful. Kihyun placed a hand on the small of his back; Hoseok didn’t even flinch. “What is it, bunny? Did you forget something?”

“Over there,” he said, motioning with his head. “The warehouse with the green door, up on the roof. Someone’s watching us.”

Kihyun’s immediate reaction was to remove his hand from Hoseok’s back, in case whoever was looking over was scrutinizing their relationship - better safe than sorry. Then he looked over towards where Hoseok had pointed, searching for whoever it was.

His blood ran cold. There were two figures there - from that distance, it was hard to make out their features. Still, Kihyun knew who they were.

Why they were there, though, eluded him.

He swallowed hard and took a step back, afraid that Hyungwon had come to take back his gift, to make them sick again - nothing happened, though. They both just stood there, two dark shapes against the clear blue sky. As if— as if they’d come to see them off.

Hoseok noticed Kihyun’s tension, if the way he looked at him was any indication. “Your devil?”

Kihyun pursed his lips. “Him and his own devil.”

Hoseok chuckled through his nose. “Relax, Ki. I don’t think they’re here to do us harm - if they wanted to hurt us, they would have done so already.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he said, thought he was still unconvinced of their intentions. He would pay attention to any signs the weather was about to turn - if they got caught in a storm in the middle of the ocean, he knew exactly who he would blame.

“I wish they’d come closer,” Hoseok said. “I want to thank them.”

“It’s best if they stay where they are, bunny.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes at him and turned forward again. When he raised a hand and waved at the two figures, Kihyun couldn’t help a fond little smile. His kind-hearted bunny, considerate even of demons.

He thought he saw one of the figures wave back.

“What are you two looking at?” Hyunwoo asked, turning both his and Hoseok’s focus away from the figures for a moment.

“Up there at the—” Hoseok said, pointing at the warehouse roof as they turned to it again, but stopped himself. Kihyun realized why the moment he looked that way - the figures were gone. “Wait, where… they were right there.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“It’s nothing,” Kihyun said, giving Hyunwoo’s arm an affectionate squeeze. He exchanged a glance with Hoseok, quietly telling him to let it go; Hyunwoo didn’t believe his story. Best to let it lie. “Everything ready?”

“Yes, we can set sail whenever you two want.”

“Let’s get going then,” Kihyun said, already moving to the mainmast to release the sails, wanting nothing but to put the strange occurrence behind him. He’d had enough of demons and supernatural shenanigans for a lifetime. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

Hyunwoo and Hoseok also began moving to help him with that task, and while they were distracted, Kihyun allowed himself a moment to look back at that rooftop, still empty of any figures, and smiled.

Consequences aside, guilt aside, his immortal soul aside, he  _ was _ thankful. He hoped Hyungwon knew that. He probably did.

And hoped Hyungwon had found whatever it was he had been looking for, too.

_ To better days _ , Hyunwoo’s words echoed in his mind as he shook himself and continued moving to get their ship out to sea and towards the horizon.

_ To better days. _

◦ ◦ ◦

The old mansion still sat at the top of the hill overlooking the vast moorlands around it, grand and imposing, the sole sovereign of that scenery since times long forgotten. Its sturdy walls still stood, no matter how much of the structure had caved to the power of the flames - it was still there. It would be there for many years to come.

The wind would blow away the ashes, the debris would dry and turn to dust under the sun. The charred grass outside would grow again, the flowers would bloom, moss and vines would lay claim to the remnants of the building. Insects would move in, wild animals would roam the ruins, birds would build their nests on whatever was left of the rooftops. The phantom footsteps would still echo in the night, the memories would still haunt the desolate rooms, and whoever was brave enough to approach would know, just by gazing upon the former grandiose of the place, that it was not empty. The history would remain.

It had not ended with the fire. It was still there.

What is an ending if not a new beginning?

What is it if not endless possibility?

◦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END <s>(or is it?)</s>
> 
> ooh boy, this has been a Ride. this story is my baby and probably my favorite thing i've ever written, and i'm sad that it's over. it was time to end it tho, and i'm happy with how it turned out. i hope you're satisfied with the ending as well!♡
> 
> thank you so much to everyone who followed this fic, everyone who left comments and messages, everyone who left kudos; i can't begin to express how thankful i am for all of you. really, thank you for giving my niche story a chance.♡♡♡
> 
> and the biggest thank you to christine ([moon__goddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon__goddess)) for helping me with this fic - having her as a beta made me a better writer and i would not have finished this story without her. ilysm♡
> 
> and... that's it. until next time, if there is one!  
thank you for reading!♡

**Author's Note:**

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